High Noon
by ZombieBlinky
Summary: AU Atemu knew that something awful would happen to him at High Noon. Something always did. But when ghost towns mysteriously begin popping up all over the West, Atemu has no choice but to team up with a cranky inventor to find a solution. Or a cause. YAOI
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: ZombieBlinky does not own Yu-Gi-Oh, nor will she make any money off of this story.

Sadness.

--::--

_1862_

A milky glass stood alone and empty on the scuffed bar table. It had been there for a long time, the tender hadn't had the will to remove the dirty glass. It was his only reminder of the last customer he had seen. The town's young doctor. He had been the last to leave... after the inn keeper, general store owner, the banker... They were all gone. The only one left in town was the bar tender. He was the proprietor of the saloon.

The saloon which would most likely go out of business if the owner didn't get a customer soon. The saloon hadn't seen a one in weeks, nor did the bar tender really expect it to. This cursed town was all the man had left. He had already accepted the fact that he'd die there. Alone.

He had no family. His wife and son were dead, killed by the very thing which caused the denizens of his beloved town to flee. The man refused to leave the town. It was the only tie that remained of his departed family. Despite all of his wishes to move, his pride would not allow it. This was his home. It would always be his home. And by Jove, he would _die_ in his home if need be.

The man's large hands trailed over the rifle that lay across his lap. His brown eyes gazed at the weapon almost lovingly. The weapon was made from the best materials the west could offer, but the man didn't bother to harbor any thoughts that it might be effective against the beasts which haunted the town. He considered taking his life into his own hands. Finish it before the creatures could.

No. He wouldn't allow the monsters to win in such a way. The very pride which was keeping him rooted into his barstool refused to let him pull the trigger. He wouldn't let the creatures ravage his dead body before they devoured it.

He sat in the darkening saloon, his ragged face reflecting off of the smoke colored whiskey glass. He hadn't even bothered to wash it. Why? What was the point in wasting what little water he had left on a glass that no one would drink from? He let out a bitter bark of a laugh. No point indeed.

The night was falling. The games were over.

The man stood up and clenched his rifle to his chest. The shadows fell, stretching through the Saloon window, spidery and long. As if reaching towards him and grasping at his feet. The man knew what would happen next. _He just knew._

He was the last one in the village. The very last.

The monsters would come to _him_ now.

And once they had him...

They would move on, leaving the ghost town lifeless, deserted, and _**dead**_.

--::--

Howdy guys! It's ZombieBlinky, back from the dead once again to offer up a blood sacrifice in the form of Western Sci-fi fic! (Hey, it was going to happen eventually...)

I'm writing this at my leisure, but I have a ton of plot bunnies just bouncing around in my head, begging to be written. Ch. 9 will be up soon for all you Teratos fans. It's going through _**The Kytrin©**_ right now. Be patient my lovelies!

_I just realized how much I really miss fanfiction ;o; It's nice to be back in the swing of things. Is it too soon to call this my official return? Hm... maybe. We'll see.  
_  
Drop me a line if you guys have questions. CH. 1 will be up post-haste.

ZB


	2. Chapter 1

I don't know if you noticed or not, but I told you guys in _**Pirates, Ninjas, and Cowboys**_ I'd be writing a Western fic.

Har Har! Told you so! So here's Chapter One!

Dig in and enjoy my lovelies!

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh and I make no profit from this story.**_

--::--

"I'm gonna get you boy!"

Atemu dove behind the side of a house and narrowly avoided being shot in the calf by an enraged man. He flicked lazy crimson eyes up towards a man hanging off the balcony of the general store and aiming a pistol at him. He pressed his lips into an annoyed scowl. Really? Was everyone out to shoot him today?

The cowboy had gotten into a slight argument with a man at the saloon. Something about a colored man sitting on his barstool. When Atemu had done the mature thing and ignored him (which for the gunslinger was a _very_ mighty task), the man had chosen to try to physically remove Atemu from his seat. Needless to say, Atemu didn't like that very much.

All he had done was tie the man to a wild horse and give the animal one firm, spur-heeled kick to the ass. Then he had given the _horse_ a gentle slap to get him running. For Atemu, that was showing considerable restraint. The cowboy was certain the citizens of this town were overreacting to what he believed was a typical saloon fight. They were incredibly common.

But of course once a colored man raised his fists against a white man suddenly the whole town thought saloon fights were savage. Never mind the fact Atemu had merely retaliated. He didn't even start it! So maybe tying the man to a horse known to be violent was a bad idea, but Atemu hadn't even double knotted the rope. Although if the man broke his wrists trying to escape from the horse, the cowboy's heart probably wouldn't bleed for very long.

A shot rang out and the wood of the house Atemu was leaning against splintered dangerously close to his ear.

_**Other**_ parts of him, however, would bleed for much longer than his heart would...

"And here I thought Southerners were sticklers for etiquette." He muttered before ducking to the side. Atemu sprinted towards the stables with his hand jammed on top of his head to keep his hat from flying off. It would be ridiculously easy for Atemu to simply turn around and show those idiots how real sharpshooting was done. Honestly, shooting blindly and screaming profanities wasn't the way to kill a man.

And they called _him_ a savage.

Atemu mentally heaved a sigh as shots hit the loose ground around his boots. The cowboy had given up that life. He was no longer a bandit running through the wild deserts in search of the man who had sold him into slavery. He was a U.S. agent now. One of the best under President Grant himself. Yet he had as much respect as a dead cow that had been rotting in the desert for weeks. Few knew of Atemu's past as a gunslinger. It wasn't a part of his history Atemu was proud of and occasionally he would have a few slips. But Atemu never went out of his way to kill anyone. He only killed if he was attacked first.

Tying a man to a wild horse really _was_ showing a lot of restraint.

He didn't slow his pace as he entered the stable, glad for the momentary escape out of the burning sun. But Atemu's relief was short-lived. Just as he approached his horse, multiple shots pierced through the stable door. The cowboy cursed violently, shock finally coloring his face. What type of guns were these bastards _using_?!

He took a second to listen for more shots. The men had ceased their fire and Atemu could hear their running feet and shouting as they approached the stable. They didn't want to scare or shoot the horses Atemu figured. No _colored boy_ was worth more than a horse. If they got their hands on Atemu, the cowboy would find himself hanging from a tree by sundown.

He snorted in amusement and gently stroked the snout of his faithful horse, Rocky. "They'll just have to catch me first, won't they?" He smirked at his horse. Rocky neighed and shook his head. He pawed the dirt floor nervously, eager to be on their way. Atemu smirk widened and he quickly pulled himself onto Rocky's back. Atemu was grateful he hadn't unsaddled the horse as he hated to ride bareback. This trip into town was meant to be a short one. It wasn't meant to be _quite_ so short, but he wasn't complaining. He had gotten the drink he had wanted.

"Let's get going Rocky," He patted the horse's sleek neck and wrapped his hand twice around the reigns to brace himself. "They won't hang _you_."

The horse reared on his hind legs and snorted as its rider gave a surprised curse. Rocky snickered at Atemu as the cowboy growled a low "Show off" under his breath. Then without preamble from Atemu, Rocky tore through the open stable. The men who were getting ready to go into the stable and drag Atemu out by his hair immediately scattered from the path of the horse.

Rocky charged through the men's feeble attempts to restrain him. Atemu expected nothing less from his trusted companion and the cowboy chuckled darkly as he saw one of the men's hands fall underneath Rocky's hooves. Just because Atemu turned over a new leaf didn't mean he couldn't take the occasional guilty pleasure of seeing those who wronged him. As stated before, it was not possible for the cowboy to summon even an ounce of pity for men who had so obviously been previous slave owners.

His fingers twitched with the need to pull one of his guns from their holsters and fire at each of the men trying to restrain his horse. To teach these cruel men the lesson they had thought to deliver to undeserving men, women and children... His ruby eyes narrowed and he murmured a word into his horses' ear. He needed to get out of here quickly before he managed to find a reason to bring justice to each man grasping for his legs. The hatred in their eyes was clearly based on the color of his tanned skin. Atemu flashed them a wide smirk as Rocky reared back on his hind legs again. And then he was gone, riding through the burning wind with Rocky flying underneath him. Shots rang out from behind and the hot bullets whizzed harmlessly past Atemu. Rocky was fast. Faster than any horse Atemu had ever laid eyes on. He could easily outrun the men and their guns.

Atemu's smirk morphed into a smile and he bent low to Rocky's gleaming neck.

They had needed to get on their way anyway. After all he was expected in Louisiana by nightfall. The cowboy chuckled deep in his throat and tipped his hat to the screaming men behind him.

"Good day gentlemen!" He smirked widely and pulled off his hat to use it as he waved farewell. His hair was freed from its confines, revealing a mass of wild, untamed spiky hair. Golden bangs shot out like bolts of lightning to frame the man's handsome face. He had sharp and angular features, giving him a look the practically screamed regality. Exotic slanted eyes screamed of a heritage that didn't originate from the States. Dark caramel skin shone in the afternoon sun and gleaming ruby eyes glinted devilishly.

Ol' Red-Eyes was never late.

--::--

In a town not far from the one Atemu had recently rode from, a young man was in a similar situation. One he wasn't fairing as admirably as Atemu had.

Yugi Mouto peeked a large eye from the shelter his tiny body was crammed in. A water barrel.

A water barrel _filled_ with the recent catch of rain.

The inventor-slash-scientist-slash-U.S Marshall could only narrow his eyes in irritation when the goons chasing him began to circle the area like vultures. He honestly didn't have the time to deal with this shit! He was expected in New Orleans by sun down and there would undoubtedly be dire consequences if he was late!

Yugi heaved an impatient sigh and the water around his mouth bubbled and frothed. He felt like a drowned cat, while his body felt cramped and waterlogged. His hat was probably the only thing that remained dry on his body and even that wouldn't last for long. Normally Yugi could play the waiting game if it meant he avoided a confrontation. Even though he was a U.S. Marshall, Yugi disliked violence of any kind. Or at least _participating_ in a good old fashion brawl. There was a difference. He preferred subtly planning, as attacking an opponent head on wasn't suitable for his small frame and stature. But that didn't mean Yugi wasn't capable of defending himself... Oh no. He was more than able to show someone their rightful place if the occasion called for it.

Yugi waited a few more seconds before assessing there was no use waiting for these men to grow tired of their petty game. He was late enough as it stood without having to deal with a few cranky thugs. _Really_, all Yugi had done was smile when one of the largest men in their group stumbled over a barstool. Suddenly, smiling had become a federal offense. Yugi fought the urge to roll his eyes. Plenty of people had smirked and even outright laughed at the man. But Yugi, sitting quietly at the bar had only smiled halfway with amusement.

And because of that soft smile, he had been immediately targeted. And it was only because Yugi was small and Chinese. It had caused him to become a prime target. After all, Yugi's people weren't known to be the most... well, they weren't looked highly upon.

Yugi scowled and let out a stream of annoyed bubbles. Feeling a bit vindictive, he decided to take action instead of remaining seated in grimy old rainwater any longer. Yugi waited until two of the goons hovered close to his barrel. Of course they had to be within arm's-length so that meant Yugi would be waiting a tad bit longer for them to drift into his short reach. The Marshal scowled. Great, he had been hiding in this barrel for so long, he hadn't seen another person that could insult his height. Of course that meant Yugi's internal jerk took it upon _himself_ to insult... himself.

And he was wet. Again.

Yugi's scowl deepened.

A horse had kicked over the water trough just as Yugi had been passing earlier at around high noon. He shuddered at the memory and focused his patient glare on the men inching closer. He hated being wet. And these men were about to find why... It didn't take long for his patience to be rewarded. The men edged towards the barrel, unsuspecting of the angry man in hiding, ready to launch his wet revenge.

His pale arms shot out from the confines of the barrel and caught both men around their necks. With a surprising amount of strength for someone of Yugi's slight stature, he cracked their heads together and dragged them backwards into the water. It hadn't dazed them in the slightest, but it had surprised them enough that he could realistically get away with his half-baked plan. Yugi quickly climbed out and stuffed their bodies into the wooden one-man prison. He couldn't restrain a wide smirk as he shut the lid on top of them. Hah. It would serve them right if they drowned.

Yugi restrained a guilty wince and quickly abandoned the scene. It wasn't likely the men would be rising any time to come after him, but it was best to make a safe getaway before their "friends" looked for them.

He ducked around the drug store, his clothes sloshing water to the ground. Yugi made a face as the fabric weighed him down. Perfect. The inventor grunted with the effort it took to simply walk and quickly waddled his way down to the stable. He untied his horses' reins and sighed with relief that he had at least made it this far.

"Celtic!" Yugi hissed, "C'mere boy!"

A chestnut snorted and trotted towards the soaking man. It didn't take long even with the soaked clothes weighing him down for Yugi to clamber on top of his horses' back. Together they quickly slipped out, undetected by the thugs searching for Celtic's rider. Yugi grinned widely under the brim of his beige hat. So what if his plans to restock in town hadn't run _quite_ as smoothly as he would have liked but Yugi had managed to get his supplies and escape with his life. For that, the inventor was grateful.

His grin morphed into a dark smirk. He was finally going to catch the two outlaws that were responsible for terrorizing the west. For once Yugi had the advantage of surprise on his side. There was no chance he was going to give it up or be late.

"Enjoy your last moments free," Yugi wrapped his hand around Celtic's reigns. The horse kicked up clouds of smoke as he quickly left the town behind him, "I'm coming after you two: Bakura and Mariku."

--::--

Hooves dug deeply into the ground as the horse sauntered into New Orleans. Its rider slid a tanned hand over the fine-coated glossy hair of his companion. The horse gave a pleased snort and nuzzled into Atemu's outstretched hand.

"Good job Rocky." The man praised. He stood up on the stirrups and swung his leg off the beasts back. He landed heavily on the ground and a cloud of fine dirt sprung up around the dark man's feet. So what if he dismounted like a seven-year old with sea legs? He and Rocky had been riding hard all throughout the day and night with the exception of that horrid stunt in the previous town. He was just happy he managed to land firmly on his feet without falling flat on his rear. Atemu gave his trusty stallion another grateful pat to the neck. He wrapped the harnesses around his hand and led the tired horse to the watering trough just outside the stables. Rocky had earned a long drink and rest.

Speaking of rest, the cowboy figured he could use one himself. Atemu sighed deeply. His job wasn't done yet. There was still a long way to go before he'd be allowed to flop sideways on his cot and sleep the knots in his muscles away.

"Oy!" A voice hollered from inside the inn to the side of the stable. "Ol' Red-Eye is back!"

Atemu winced at the call and reluctantly pushed away thoughts of rest. That's right... he had to meet up with _**them**_. He scanned the surrounding area before trudging up towards the inn where he had heard the voice shout. It didn't take long for the gunslinger to walk up the worn steps, his spurs clicking methodically against the wood. He hesitated only for a second with his hand against the door. His friends were inside, most likely causing mass panic for the innocent innkeepers. Atemu heaved a sigh and pushed the door open.

Surprisingly when Atemu entered the room, there were no signs of explosions, terrified owners, or even a slight clue that the peace had been disturbed. Bewildered, Atemu walked over towards his two friends who seated with their backs turned towards him.

"Oy," Atemu was suspicious. "What's wrong with you two?"

The first twisted on his stool and leaned back against the ledge behind him. He had been the one to call out to Atemu in the first place. His mouth twisted into a devious smirk, flashing a row of straight white teeth, accented only by his stark white hair. "What Atemu? No 'howdy' or 'evenin''? How rude of you! And you were always a stickler for manners!"

Atemu quirked an eyebrow at his white haired friend and ignored his words, "Looks like you got a haircut Bakura. Were the long, girlish locks too difficult for you to care for?"

"Shut up," Bakura scowled. "It's been nearly three months since we last saw you." He wrapped a finger around a jagged lock that hung just underneath his chin. He hadn't cared much for his hair. He just never had the time to deal with it before... the _incident_. Bakura grimaced.

"I know," Atemu sat next to them and leaned against the ledge. He nearly groaned with relief as the pressure was taken off his aching muscles but he didn't lest he be teased mercilessly by the two outlaws. "So why the change?"

"Someone mistook Bakura as a girl!" Mariku cackled. His dark eyes were narrowed with glee. "Although I suppose the dress didn't help much!" He threw his head back and roared with laughter.

After Atemu blinked away his shock, he quickly joined Mariku in laughing at Bakura's misfortune. The white-haired outlaw ground his teeth together and glared murderously at his two friends. "Don't act as though I was the only one in a dress! If I recall correctly, it had been _your_ idea in the first place Mariku!"

The sandy-haired outlaw immediately sobered at Bakura's vicious smirk and Atemu could only laugh harder at this revelation.

"At least _I_ wasn't caught in that all-men's brothel with my dress torn and corset shredded!" Mariku shot back.

"_Near_ the brothel! _NEAR_!" Bakura exclaimed furiously, going very pale under his dark tan.

Atemu chuckled deeply and pulled his hat off. He set it down on the table beside them and rolled his eyes at the two's antics. It really was no wonder Bakura had chopped off his hair. It sounded like the outlaw was better off without the long hair. As hilarious as the thought of the gruff man being thrown into a brothel was – or "near" it as Bakura claimed – Atemu knew there had most likely been a few injuries checked into the local doctor as a result.

"You two were asking for it." Atemu snorted. "Dressing as girls, really? What the hell were you two thinking?" The image of the two bandits dressed as saloon girls was haunting as it burned into Atemu's mind. He had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing as the mental picture danced before his eyes. They wouldn't make very good females, a fact Atemu was sure of.

It was true. After all, all three had escaped their plantations at a young age and slipped into the desert. There they had lived as young boys, learning everything about the desert that they could in order to survive. They each had an unmistaken roguish look to them which told of the long life they'd fought to achieve in the wilds. There was a certain sharpness to each that accompanied their strong builds and statures. Mariku was broad shouldered and muscular as was Bakura. It didn't help that the white-haired bandit had a crossed scar on his right cheek, cut from his eyebrow to a centimeter past his cheek bone. That wasn't exactly feminine by any standards.

They undoubtedly made incredibly manly-females. Atemu mentally cringed as he felt a part of his soul rip off and die by simply imagining them.

Seeing the slightly sickened expression on Atemu's face, Mariku hurried on with his explanation. Atemu was adequately scarred for life. Excellent. That would make their news a bit easier for their estranged outlaw brother to take, "Our cross-dressing is the reason why we contacted you."

"Oh?" Atemu prompted, feeling ill. "I'm not going to be parading about in a dress am I?" He scowled.

"Only if you want to," Mariku smirked broadly.

Bakura jerked his thumb towards the door, gesturing for them to go somewhere quiet so they wouldn't be overheard. The three silently got up and left the inn. They positioned themselves under the shade of a low hanging tree near the stables. Atemu glared out at the sunset with a low hiss. The sky was already turning a deep shade of orange. He could pick up the sounds of lizards and flies settling down for the night as the sun began to disappear.

"_**He's**_ in town today." Bakura growled. He too was glaring out at the sunset. It was as if he was trying to find some place to direct the anger he was feeling. The sunset seemed an adequate enough outlet to conduct his negativity towards. No one moved. Atemu had figured that was the reason why his friends had contacted him. While they were the best of friends, it didn't change the fact that Atemu worked for the government now. Bakura and Mariku were highly wanted criminals. Atemu was doing a disservice to the country he worked for by not turning them in. However, the gunslinger felt as though his... _personal_ needs held quite a bit more weight in this case, so Atemu never felt the need to mention Bakura and Mariku's appearances to his superiors. He wouldn't betray his friends.

"Gozaburo's here?" Atemu asked quietly. The man had been their slave owner before their escape. He had also been one of the plantation owners who had been most vehemently against the union and President Lincoln. Atemu clenched his fists tightly to contain his rage. That man had been responsible for the slaughter of his family. All except his worthless uncle, Aknadin, who had gladly helped in the murders in exchange for his own life. The same applied to his two companions. Bakura and Mariku had suffered greatly at Gozaburo and Aknadin's hands. "_**Where**_?" Atemu hissed murderously.

Mariku rested his large hand on Atemu's shoulder and smirked. "He'll be hosting a party at one of the larger manors just outside of town."

Bakura leaned his elbow against Atemu's open shoulder and grinned viciously at the dark glare Atemu shot him. "You up for a good ol' gate crashing?"

The gunslinger shrugged his friends off and turned around. He flashed them a wicked smirk that didn't reach his eyes. Perhaps trying to kill Gozaburo was toeing a gray line of justice. But hell, it was something Atemu needed. Desperately. He needed revenge for his family. They had been killed like animals and for what cause? Sport. Amusement. Rage fueled Atemu and he hissed murderously. None of their families had stood a chance. That reminder pushed the gunslinger to make a decision. "Like hell I am!" Came his malicious reply. It couldn't hurt to live like an outlaw just a day longer, could it?

Bakura let out a bark of laughter and patted Atemu on his spiky head, much to the gunslinger's annoyance. "Good ol' Red-Eye! Always up for a game!"

Atemu rolled his eyes in irritation. It seemed as though he did that a lot whenever he was around these two idiots... However some of the painful memories and feelings lessened under Bakura's teasing. He smirked challengingly at the two outlaws.

"Someone has got to keep an eye on you imbeciles."

--::--

Yugi picked his way easily through the masses of warm bodies and glanced hesitantly around him. So far he hadn't seen any sign of either Bakura or Mariku at this party. The thought troubled him and he kept an eagle eye on the guests milling around. He recognized many of the party-goers and he had to restrain the urge to run screaming from the room as some of them shot him dark glares. Almost all of the guests had been previous slave owners. And while Yugi was Chinese and had been lucky enough to escape their notice for most of his life, it didn't change the fact that he was still treated like a second-class citizen.

He smiled somewhat nervously and edged away. While he _could_ handle himself in a fight if need be, he didn't relish the thought of being in a room full of people who openly disliked him. That would lead to an unpleasant circumstance and it would most likely end with Yugi being beaten and thrown into the river. Yugi would have to find the host quickly and get going before anyone decided to start something.

"Ah, Mr. Mouto. How nice of you to join us this evening. I see you received my telegram." A rough voice cut into Yugi's thoughts. The inventor turned around and forced a smile on his face. Speaking of which! He sighed in relief.

"Mr. Gozaburo!" Yugi's smile faltered as he caught sight of the lusty expression on the older man's face. _Oh no_... Yugi mentally groaned. His relief to see the other immediately drained away and Yugi considered throwing himself back to the hostile crowd. He recognized the look on Gozaburo's face. Through his whole life, Yugi had been tormented by people lusting after his exotic looks. There was no doubt that the diminutive inventor was a beauty. Yugi himself couldn't see the appeal. He found himself fairly strange looking, with odd purple eyes that seemed too large for his face and unusual mismatched hair. He often related these constant harassments to his unique appearance. People often wanted to sleep with Yugi just so they could say they _did_. What more could they boast about than having slept with the strange looking child-man? Stubbornly, Yugi pushed these thoughts away and his fixed his smile more firmly on his face. It was impossible to fake complete cheerfulness, but he could sure as hell try. "I arrived as soon as I could! A threat on your life is a very serious matter indeed."

"Indeed." Gozaburo drawled. His small eyes raked along the length of Yugi's body, oblivious or uncaring to the discomfort he was causing the marshal. "How are you enjoying the party thus far?" His eyes never once drifted from Yugi.

"It's... nice." Yugi ground his teeth together, searching within him to find patience to deal with this man. "Now about the threat on your _life_."

He made sure to emphasis the "life," as Yugi figured it was more important than a quick fuck. Gozaburo didn't seem to make the connection; his eyes seemed to darken further at Yugi's words.

"I would prefer if we spoke about this in private." Gozaburo pressed his hand gently, but firmly on Yugi's back. "Perhaps in my study? I wouldn't wish for anyone to overhear us."

Yugi mentally rolled his eyes. Right. Gozaburo simply didn't want anyone to know he was screwing a "China man." Oh what the scandal _that_ would make. If Yugi wasn't careful, his metaphorical eyes would remain lodged in a metaphorical eye roll. The inventor couldn't help himself though. As if Gozaburo could convince Yugi to go to bed with him. There wasn't nearly enough gold in the west to persuade the young inventor to sleep with the southern businessman. But that certainly wouldn't stop Gozaburo from trying.

Regardless, Yugi remembered his manners and painfully nodded. He was afraid his smile morphed into a sort of grimace in the time it had taken his thoughts to turn towards the mind-numbing horror that Gozaburo was practically throwing out there. He had to remind himself that Gozaburo was a highly influential man whose aid was needed for the U.S government to reach stability. However, the inventor was quickly losing faith in Bakura and Mariku ever showing up. Had this "death threat" been a hoax? Now that Yugi thought on it, Bakura and Mariku didn't seem the type to kill just for the hell of it. Sure they had killed before... but never without a reason.

"Are you certain Bakura and Mariku will show?" Yugi asked, voicing his doubts. He was led into a lavishly decorated office. Yugi had to restrain his gasp of awe at the incredible riches the man possessed. Wealth he had no doubt earned through the blood, sweat, and tears of others. Gozaburo relished in living lavishly, that much was obvious. He cared nothing for the lives he had destroyed to obtain his wealth. Yugi hid his cringe of disgust and walked towards the window. He felt the latch, assessing that the clasp was strong enough to hold. The water tower stood tall just outside his window and Yugi turned absently away after inspecting it for a second. Why was he trying to protect this man again?

Oh yes, government stability and funding.

"Very certain." Gozaburo walked over towards his desk and sat down. He motioned for Yugi to venture closer towards him. The inspector did so with obvious reluctance.

Yugi leaned against the older man's desk, making sure to stay just out of Gozaburo's reach. "That's strange." He mused quietly. "What type of history do you have with those two that would make them want to kill you?" His eyes narrowed fractionally.

Gozaburo straightened in his chair and leaned forward at Yugi's words. They seemed to affect him negatively and the inventor was deliriously happy the businessman was no longer looking at him with lust, but contempt. "What makes you think I have a history with those outlaws? I'm rich and they're not! What more of a motive do they need to want me dead?"

The small man leaned off Gozaburo's desk and walked towards the center of the room. He flashed the business man a reassuring smile that didn't reach his violet eyes. "You're absolutely right! I was simply wondering." Yugi made sure to keep the disbelief out of his voice. Gozaburo was lying. He _did_ have some history with the outlaws. Something he had done to them was bad enough to make them want to kill him. Either that or they weren't coming at all. Yugi was more inclined to lean towards the latter.

"I trust you have the adequate means of protecting me?" Gozaburo steepled his fingers and peered steadily at the inventor over the top of his hands.

"On the contrary sir," Yugi flicked his eyes longingly towards the window, as though contemplating throwing himself out so he could fall to his death. Yugi was beginning to think anything would be better than dealing with Gozaburo - especially if he was working under the assumption that Yugi was to be Gozaburo's personal bodyguard. The idea by itself was more than hysterical.

And terrifying.

"I plan to capture Bakura and Mariku," He leaned towards the window to enjoy the gentle breeze. "And then return to Washington where I will await their hearing."

Gozaburo sneered. He was obviously displeased at how easily Yugi was able to dismiss what he thought was an issue of national security: his safety. "That confident in your abilities to catch them, are you?"

"If your information is correct and they show up," Yugi turned to flash a wide smirk at Gozaburo. "They'll be captured with relative ease." He pushed the thick curtains away from the window and peered out the glass. A black smudge by the water tower caught the inspector's eye and he frowned suspiciously. Had that been there before? "I've set some... traps."

The older man brightened and pulled a cigar from a case he had on his desk. He cut it with ease and lit it, puffing silently on the rolled up tobacco while gazing out towards Yugi with interest. "Traps you say?"

Yugi wrinkled his nose with barely disguised appall. The smoke was slowly filling the room and the inventor found himself sorely grateful that he had thought to lean against the window. He slowly worked on breathing in even gulps of air. It wouldn't do for him to pass out from lack of oxygen.

"Traps." He confirmed lightly.

"In that case I'll leave the heavy lifting up to you Mr. Mouto!" Gozaburo stood up, shocking Yugi out of his breathing exercises. "I have a party to host and enjoy!"

"Gozaburo, there are men after your life!" Yugi said in disbelief. "You really want to walk into a crowd of people where you can be easily killed?" The inventor was unable to wrap his mind around just how invulnerable the man believed he was. In addition, that would make Yugi's job that much harder, considering it was his job to ensure the arrogant man's safety.

"No dark-skinned ruffians can touch me!" Gozaburo boasted and strolled out of his office with a confident air. He paused as if remembering something and turned towards Yugi with an air of contempt.

"You look like one of my former slaves that managed to run away." He said flippantly. "He was about twelve at the time, and quite a desirable piece of work. _For a colored man that is_."

Yugi flushed a bright red and hissed at Gozaburo's retreating back. Was that the older man's way of saying Yugi looked like he was twelve?! He narrowed his eyes and locked his jaw to prevent himself from yelling profanities at the businessman. No wonder Bakura and Mariku wanted him dead. Gozaburo was one of the most unpleasant men Yugi ever had the misfortune of meeting.

Angrily, Yugi stomped after his charge with murder on his mind. If Bakura and Mariku ever showed up, he would be tempted to show them the welcome mat. Or perhaps even force them to wait in line so he could take his turn. How so many people bothered to attend Gozaburo's party was a mystery to Yugi. The man was a terror to deal with! It was a mystery he was not terribly interested in finding out. Yugi found himself wishing for the night to be ready and done with...

He slowly made his way back down the stairs and made a beeline towards the wall. There he would be able to keep a relatively good eye on Gozaburo – and secretly pray the old man would have a spontaneous heart attack before Bakura and Mariku could kill him. Yugi rubbed his temples and sighed. He was so tired and attributed his exhausted to his sympathizing with the outlaws. He stood silently as he tried to ignore his throbbing legs. After his long trip from Washington to his current hell-binding assignment, Yugi felt irritable and ready to leave.

So distracted was the young inventor, he didn't notice how quickly the time began to slip away. Nor did he notice how the shifting party-goers had begun to give Yugi a wide berth of distance. That is until a deep chuckle sounded by his side, startling the inventor out of his semi-murderous thoughts.

"You're looking a bit red in the face sir."

Yugi spun in place, his hand immediately flying to his side on impulse where his gun rested. His eyes landed on the speaker and abruptly felt his mouth run dry. _Holy_-...

Fierce crimson eyes stared out at the inventor through an electric fringe of blond hair. Yugi was immediately caught in that intense gaze, the man's burning, gemlike-eyes only accentuated by the deep bronzed hue of his skin. Those hawk-like eyes watched Yugi as the wheels began turning in his head, trying to decide whether or not Yugi would draw. Yugi felt a faint shiver as he saw the broad set to the man's shoulders and the powerful aura he emitted. He was dangerously handsome. In every possible way. To the proud set to his jaw to the casual way his hard body leaned against the wall. Whether this man was aware of his dark and exotic looks was up in the air, and Yugi could feel his heart thudding painfully against his chest.

This was _not_ a man Yugi wanted to draw on.

And you didn't survive very long in the west by ignoring your instincts.

Slowly, Yugi pulled his hand away from his hip and weapon to lean back casually against the wall, every nerve in his body alight and tingling. From certain peril? Or attraction? The inventor didn't know.

"Thank you for noticing." Yugi replied back softly and directed his gaze back towards the crowd. He kept an eye on the man with his peripheral vision. There was something dangerous about him. Something that caught Yugi's attention. Perhaps he was a kindred spirit...

Compared to all the painted and beautifully gowned patrons of Gozaburo, Yugi and this rugged man stood out starkly in comparison. Vaguely, Yugi wondered what the man was doing here in a party that obviously didn't suit the gunslinger.

"You seem just as out as place here as I do," The man continued after a brief pause in silence, unknowingly voicing Yugi's very thoughts. The marshal looked at him in surprise.

"Was it that obvious?" Yugi asked flatly and looked at the gunslinger in faint amusement. The man chuckled again in response.

"Painfully so."

Yugi glanced up at him with a wry grin, "You got a name cowboy?" He raised an eyebrow, "Or are you just going to keep starin' at me?"

The dark man smirked and cocked his head, "Atemu. Atemu West." He jerked his chin towards the Chinese man, "What about you little one?"

Yugi's cheeks flushed at the nickname. Normally, he would be furious at the barb against his stature (because he sure as hell knew how short he was) but it didn't seem to matter when Atemu said it. There was no malicious or teasing intent behind it. The nickname was honestly just that, a nickname. So Yugi let it go.

"Yugi. Yugi Mouto." He introduced himself easily to the gunslinger named Atemu. Ruby eyes glittered with mischief and interest before he pushed himself off the wall.

Atemu chuckled deeply and wrapped a strong hand around Yugi's upper arm. He effortlessly dragged the surprised inventor through the crowd. It was done with relative ease as the party-goers seemed to jump out of Atemu's way. Not even Yugi's spluttered attempts at getting the gunslinger to stop seemed to faze Atemu.

"Wait! Where are we going?" He yelped sharply. Yugi abruptly bit his tongue and blushed a furious shade of red as the undignified sound left his mouth. Atemu just smirked.

"Out of this stuffy party to get some fresh air," Atemu growled in amusement, "Both you and I look like we need it."

Yugi chewed on the inside of his cheek. The idea of getting some air was highly tempting. And getting some air with this gorgeous man wasn't a thought the inventor was altogether opposed to. Besides, Bakura and Mariku had yet to show up and Yugi very much doubted they were going to. Why would they bother with Gozaburo in the first place?

It was ridiculous.

So Yugi, against his better judgment, nodded up at Atemu and smiled, "What's the harm in getting' a bit of fresh air?"

Yugi was about to find out.

--::--

_End of Chapter one._

Alright guys, what did you think? Should I continue? Drop me a line and tell me what you think!

ZB 


	3. Chapter 2

_**Alright guys! Most of you don't think I'll finish this fic because it's a western – to which I can only say, 'Lulwut?' in response. **_

_**Thanks goes to Kytrin for editing this chapter! Read on!**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own or make a profit from Yu-Gi-Oh**_

--::--

'_I knew this was a bad idea!'_ Yugi mentally groaned. His heart thudded painfully in his chest and the inventor had to fight to keep his face neutral. More importantly he had to concentrate on steadying his hand. It shook slightly with nerves as cold fingers locked around the frozen grip of Yugi's pistol.

Atemu was glaring at Yugi with pure fire in his eyes. An onyx gun was aimed squarely between the Marshall's eyes. The gunslinger looked completely oblivious to the gun Yugi had drawn and aimed just as accurately back at him. The only sign Atemu acknowledged the weapon was the fact that he had not yet squeezed the trigger.

The twin weapons remained trained on one another neither dropping an inch. Both men were reluctant to give up whatever leverage they had over the other, each afraid they'd end up with a hole in their forehead if they gave the other the benefit of the doubt.

_'How the hell did I get into this mess?'_ Yugi thought helplessly, his grip tightening. The tied up Mariku shifted behind the two, frantically trying to escape the ropes which bound him tightly. He was completely oblivious to the showdown between the two U.S agents, focused only on trying to escape.

_'It had been going so well too...'_ Yugi fought to show no outward sign of distress. But he could still taste the lingering flavor of Atemu on his lips. Sweet and spicy... He forced himself not to get distracted.

--::--

The moon hung heavy in the sky as the party roared merrily on. The guests didn't notice as two figures stole out of the lively festivities to have a bit of private time alone. They also didn't notice when two additional figures made their way silently towards the back of Gozaburo's home. Neither did one of the two who had departed the party.

Yugi knew it probably wasn't a smart idea to be alone with the mysterious Atemu. The man practically radiated a sense of danger. However that was the problem. Yugi was not at all ashamed to admit that very sense of darkness and danger compelled him to follow the other out here in the first place. But to be honest, Atemu had practically dragged him out of the party. He wanted to pick apart the puzzle that this man presented.

After seeing so many people salivate over Gozaburo and his money, Yugi was pleased to find a person who seemed to have sustenance to his personality and character. That was good to know. Since upon entering the party, Yugi felt as if he'd go insane if he had to meet another shallow person who openly hated him. They were all one of the same. Doll cutouts who danced like marionettes to Gozaburo's every whim and desire. Atemu clearly refused to be a puppet. He refused to bow to the businessman's demands. He was truly a puzzling enigma.

An _attractive_ enigma at that.

Yugi could not stop staring at the vision of a man striding beside him. It was like the gunslinger had come straight out of a dream.

The inventor tore his gaze away from the good looking man to gaze uup at the silvery moon. A soft smile worked its way over Yugi's face and his nervousness trained away. A sense of tranquility stole over him and his anxiety melted into nothingness.

"So what's the real reason you dragged me out of there?" Yugi turned to look at the dark man, "Not that I'm complaining."

Atemu merely laughed quietly and shrugged his shoulders, "You mean I need a reason to drag someone who looks just as miserable as me out of that damned part?"

Atemu smirked and joined Yugi in his moon gazing. The Louisiana night was warm and Atemu was grateful that he could properly enjoy it. Nights of that particular kind were rare and hard to come by, especially if it meant one could relax for just a moment. Atemu was rarely able to enjoy such evenings since his days acting as an outlaw. He hopped up to sit on the fenced off area Gozaburo had set up for his prize horses to gallop around in.

Gozaburo had a strange affinity for wild and often rabid beasts. He loved breaking them and molding them to his will. Forcing their spirits to shatter so they had the will only to answer to him. Atemu looked at the ring in distaste. Gozaburo only wanted powerful and mean creatures so none would dare oppose him without fear of being attacked. The gunslinger snorted in disgust.

The horses had been put away in the stables for the night so they wouldn't mind sharing their area with Atemu for now. He glanced down at the beautiful little Chinese man he had stumbled across in Gozaburo's party. This 'Yugi' was truly a pleasure to meet in the suffocating crowd of puffed up party-goers. Those expressive eyes of Yugi's hadn't been able to mask his boredom and annoyance.

Even though Atemu knew he was supposed to be on a mission to pinpoint Gozaburo, he couldn't resist speaking to the gorgeous angel. Yugi had absolutely stolen Atemu's breath away once they had began to speak, and any thoughts of hurting Gozaburo immediately went sailing out of the window. At least for the moment. Right now, Atemu was thinking about making the little one his and how he was planning on going through with his desire. He had no intention to force Yugi into something. No, he wanted the Chinese man more than willing to come to Atemu.

"Well usually there's a reason for singling a person out," Yugi leaned his forearm on the fence and smiled at Atemu, "You're not going to kill me out here, are you?" He asked, only half joking.

"Why would I want to kill you?" Atemu looked at Yugi curiously, honestly surprised by the question. Kill this angel? How absurd! A smirk twitched at his lips, "Maybe I wasn't comfortable being out here alone and needed some company?"

Yugi raised a skeptical eyebrow at that and gave the gunslinger a once over, obviously not buying that excuse.

"You're armed to the teeth." He drawled, "I was born in the morning, but not _**this**_ morning. Am I really supposed to believe that? "

"Only if it'll help your peace of mind," Atemu flashed the younger man a smirk and leaned towards Yugi with intrigue, "Although I'd have a difficult time catching you off guard Little One." He surveyed the smaller man's frame appraisingly before leaning back away.

"You're fairly well armed as well. I think you could handle yourself if you really had to." He chuckled and his voice dropped to a soft purr, "You'll also find that I'm no threat to _you_."

Yugi flushed and felt his cheeks heat up at the sudden change of Atemu's tone. "Ah... T-thank you." He stammered. He coughed to hide his stammer and looked shyly back up at the sky. Atemu just let out a soft chuckle.

The two lapsed into a fairly comfortable silence, eyes turned towards the stars. They had a mutual sort or agreement not to speak and interrupt the quiet moment they were having. That is until Atemu pointed up at the sky and gently nudged Yugi's shoulder, "Look. The North Star."

Yugi blinked in surprise and peered up at the mass of bright stars, amazed that Atemu had managed to pick the single dot out of the seemingly random mess.

"Where?" He squinted up. Unable to see it or even tell the difference between the others, Yugi looked blankly up at the inky sky. The inventor always held anyone who could pick out the North Star in high regard, after all Yugi had never been quite able to learn the difference. They all looked the same to him.

Atemu chuckled and slipped off of his perch on the railing. He drew Yugi towards him and nestled the smaller man against his chest. Silently, he marveled at how well they fit together, their bodies seemingly meshing together in a seamless way. He loved the way Yugi's body snuggled against his like a piece of a puzzle.

The inventor let out a surprised squeak and immediately clamped his mouth shut as he felt Atemu's strong arms encircle his body. A dark flush settled over his cheeks at the feel of that well-toned chest pressed against Yugi's back. He shivered slightly at the feel of Atemu's warm breath brushing against the back of his neck.

"A-Atemu... Wh-What?" He couldn't hide his stammer this time.

"Relax Little One," Atemu eyed the tense male in his arms and rubbed his hands soothingly on Yugi's shoulders, hoping to make him relax. He purred softly to Yugi, his hands drifting in soothing circles along Yugi's sides. The inventor became hyper aware that he had left his duster inside Gozaburo's house when those agile fingers worked their way over the thin cotton of Yugi's shirt. "I'm going to show you the way."

"The way where...?" Yugi asked in a daze. He could barely keep himself focused on Atemu's words. Not with those distracting hands working their way across his chest and sides. Was he being molested? Yugi wasn't sure.

Atemu's hands worked their way gently over Yugi's shoulders and down his arms. He chuckled softly and covered Yugi's pale hand under his larger one.

"To freedom," He pointed up at the sky with their joined hands and leaned forward so his cheek was lightly brushing against Yugi's.

"Freedom...?" Yugi tilted his head to the side to look at Atemu, his breath catching as he finally noticed just how close the other's face was to his. The mind-numbing effect was immediate and it caused Yugi to forgot his question in Atemu's intense gaze. Ruby eyes drilled into amethyst seemingly unconcerned by their proximity.

"The North Star lead slaves North to freedom." Atemu pointed up at the side, "You see the Big Dipper?" He pointed up at the cluster of stars, "Just across the way from it is the Little Dipper, and on the tip of its handle is the North Star."

Yugi managed to tear his gaze away from Atemu long enough to turn his gaze up to where Atemu had directed. Soon, with enough tries, Yugi was able to tell the difference between the stars.

"So that's how you stay on course?" He asked quietly, still too wrapped up in Atemu's arms to really mind. For some reason Yugi felt far too content in his

"Mhmm," Atemu hummed distractedly. He pulled his smaller look-a-like around in a tight circle so Yugi was now facing him. "Yugi, Little One, I must confess to having had a motive for dragging you out here."

Yugi looked up at Atemu somewhat hazily. He wasn't quite able to think past those distracting hands still on his body. They sent delicious shivers down his spine whenever they moved. Soft caresses distracted Yugi until Atemu's words finally registered in his mind, "And what reason is that?"

"You're cold," Atemu murmured distractedly before shrugging his duster off and settling it on Yugi's shoulders.

"Thank you," Yugi replied just as softly. Every nerve on his body was screaming to Yugi. Telling him something was about to happen. He felt his mouth go dry while his heart fluttered anxiously in his chest.

Atemu brushed a warm hand across Yugi's cheek and drew close. Cerise eyes stared intensely into violet, gauging Yugi's reaction to the touch. He obviously saw something which encouraged and Atemu dipped his head a bit closer to Yugi's.

"May I kiss you Yugi?" Atemu asked softly.

Yugi's breath caught in his throat at the request and his eyes widened fractionally. He looked at the other suspiciously for a moment, trying to find any trace of deception in those beautiful scarlet eyes. Yugi had been played and taken for a ride before. He was no fool and would not allow himself to be screwed around with a second time. He knew many people just wanted to be with Yugi for his strange looks, so how did he know that this one was any different?

Yet Yugi's heart thudded as he caught sight of the sincerity in Atemu's eyes. Sincerity reflected with desire. A desire Yugi felt just a potently.

Slowly, Yugi nodded to give the other his consent.

In a flurry of warmth and gentle hands, Yugi felt his breath literally be stolen away. Atemu's lips had claimed Yugi's in an unassuming kiss and the gunslinger made no move to deepen it. Yugi let out a soft whine of surprise at the silky feel against his mouth and found himself suddenly eager to taste the cowboy. He pulled himself closer to Atemu, eager for more of what the other could provide.

Atemu groaned softly when Yugi pressed himself against his body. They fit together so well, the thought sending a hard spike of lust rocketing through Atemu's body. He sunk his teeth into Yugi's plump lower lip eliciting a delicious gasp of surprise from the smaller of the two. Atemu immediately took advantage of the opening Yugi so graciously provided and invaded the other's mouth. He slid his tongue against Yugi's in an attempt to coax it to play. Yugi was all too willing.

Yugi's fingers curled around the buttons on Atemu's vest, shivering slightly at the feel of the other's warmth so close to him. Those spicy lips moved against his as demanding hands slid past his borrowed duster and around his waist. The Marshall was pulled up and towards Atemu so their bodies were lightly brushing against one another. Yugi ached for more contact and he swiftly closed the distance between them, his arms coming up to wrap around the gunslinger's shoulders. He felt light-headed and dizzy under the ministrations as Yugi lost himself to Atemu's exotic flavor.

Once his lungs began to burn with the need to breathe, Yugi was unfortunately forced to draw away. He panted for breath as Atemu continued to pepper gentle kisses onto his lips. Yugi could feel Atemu's dangerous hands exploring his chest and sides. Atemu's breath hitched for moment and Yugi looked at the gunslinger curiously, having heard the noise through his lust-fogged state of mind.

But before Yugi could ask what the matter was, a loud screech tore through the peaceful evening, consequentially interrupting whatever Yugi and Atemu had been doing.

Yugi's head snapped back in the direction he heard the shout come from and looked back at the stunned Atemu. The gunslinger looked a bit pale underneath his tan as his gaze followed Yugi's. Those in the party had yet to notice anything amiss so it continued on, the dancers and guests oblivious to what had happened. Whoever had shouted obviously had been caught by surprise because it was followed by a long silence. None of the traps Yugi had set had been meant to knock someone unconscious or muffle their screams. The chances that the scream belong to either Bakura or Mariku shot up as a guest would be screaming their head off, demanding for help.

He looked at Atemu, wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around the other and pull him into another spicy kiss. One taste of those tempting lips wasn't enough for Yugi. He was addicted and craved more of Atemu. He let out a somewhat defeated sigh and looked at the cowboy. "I'll be right back." He panted breathlessly as he pulled away from Atemu. Oh if he had caught either Bakura or Mariku, he was going to make them suffer for their interruption. Yugi turned and ran off in the direction he had heard the noise originate from, intending on dealing with the problem quickly.

Atemu watched the smaller man run off, torn between the mad desire to run after him and keep the delectable Yugi to himself, or finding Bakura and Mariku and high-tailin' it out of there. While he had been exploring Yugi's chest, Atemu's hand had touched something hard and metal. Something Atemu himself wore on his person. A badge. His heart had stopped at that realization and his ardor had drained away quickly.

Yugi was here at a rich-man's party, such an obvious outcast. Why hadn't Atemu connected the dots sooner? That meant the Chinese man was sent for Gozaburo's protection. Possibly to protect him from Bakura and Mariku, which meant Gozaburo had been tipped off to the outlaws' activities. _But how_? Atemu's mind spun as he took off after Yugi silently, intent on seeing where the man led him.

If Yugi had managed to trap and get his hands on one of Atemu's friends, the gunslinger wouldn't know what to do. At least not _immediately_. If Atemu was forced to step in and help one of his friends it would cause a lot of trouble. He worked for the government now and so did Yugi. The idea of killing an innocent, especially a pretty little gem like Yugi, absolutely disgusted Atemu. That thought was cut out before he even considered it. Atemu's only chance of squeezing his way into a safe zone was if Yugi didn't realize Atemu's position in the government. It wasn't that slim a chance considering how many people were employed by the government and Atemu happened to work directly under President Grant. There weren't many other officials Atemu came in contact with regardless, so his chance wasn't unfeasible.

However he hoped either one of those idiots had enough sense to avoid the traps Yugi had most likely set out around the perimeter of Gozaburo's manor. Atemu crept closer to the house and pressed his back against the side, peering around the corner. He had seen Yugi disappear around one end of the house so Atemu stuck to him, silently creeping up behind the officer like a shadow. Eventually they stopped near a low hanging tree that looked strangely misshapen from Atemu's angle. He drew closer to get a better look and his eyes widened at the sight which presented itself.

"How the hell-...?" He trailed off with a stunned whisper, crimson eyes never leaving the tree.

There, hanging upside down and bound tightly, was a very confused looking Mariku. His face was red and he was slightly cross-eyed from all the blood running to his head. He looked absolutely ridiculous and Atemu had to stifle a snort of laughter before Yugi heard him and his position was given away.

Luckily Yugi seemed as if he was looking at Mariku through tunnel vision. He approached the bound outlaw, unconcerned for his safety. The other was so tightly detained there was no chance he could slip so much as a finger free to fire off a round at Yugi. Now the marshal had his bait. The two outlaws were notorious for striking in pairs. That meant the other was creeping around somewhere. He drew his pistol and aimed it steadily at the outlaw, normally wide amethyst eyes narrowed in a challenging glare. Yugi had no intention of firing the weapon, but it was meant as an intimidation tactic. Perhaps it would help loosen this one's tongue so he could find the other.

Judging by the slightly demented smile on the tied-up man's face, Yugi figured this guy probably had faced down so many guns in the past, they didn't even faze him anymore. "So which one are you? Bakura or Mariku?" He demanded softly.

"Hi, how are you? I'm quite fine, thanks for asking. Except for the upside-down bit, that kind of sucks," Mariku's grin widened.

Yugi frowned in blank confusion. As far as bandits went, this one didn't really fit the MO. He didn't seem very dangerous that was for sure. Either he was a bit crazy -- since most sane people would be freaking out if they were hogtied and upside down -- or was putting on a front to throw Yugi off his guard. Or both.

Yugi shivered if that was the case. Whatever the case was, the inventor wouldn't allow himself to get distracted by this man's babble.

"What's your name?" Yugi demanded once more, keeping his gun carefully trained on the trapped outlaw. He was so focused on Mariku, he didn't notice footsteps behind him until it was too late.

Yugi spun around, his gun raised and ready to shoot. He wasn't expecting such a quick draw from his attacker however, and before Yugi realized it, he was staring down the muzzle of a gun pointing a mere inch away from his face.

His eyes widened as he spotted just who was holding the weapon. Atemu, the gunslinger Yugi thought he had left behind at the stables. The cowboy had no doubt followed Yugi out of curiosity and now had gotten the wrong idea.

"Put your gun down Atemu," Yugi pleaded softly as he reached across his body to pull out his badge. Atemu dropped the hammer to his gun in a wordless warning to Yugi not to move. The inventor suppressed a sigh of frustration.

"I'm a U.S. Marshall," Yugi said evenly as he tried to reason with the man he had been kissing not ten minutes earlier. "And this is a bandit who goes either by the name 'Bakura' or 'Mariku.' He's under arrest for terrorizing and blatantly forgoing the laws of this country."

Atemu didn't reply at first but kept a neutral expression on his face. He saw a flash of white out of the corner of his eye and nodded minutely. Bakura. Atemu would have to keep Yugi preoccupied while the albino snuck up behind them.

"And your proof is?" Atemu demanded softly. He hated having to question his little one like he was some sort of criminal. Or even make him defend himself, especially since Yugi was right. An astounding fact in and of itself. "No one knows what the infamous Bakura and Mariku look like. So how can you be sure?"

"The owner of the mansion was tipped off to the possibility of a death threat a few days ago," Yugi said shortly, violet eyes narrowing impatiently on the gunslinger in front of him, "Listen I don't need to explain myself to a civilian. Put your weapon down and go back inside the party."

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Atemu said softly, "It sounds like any evidence you have on this man is circumstantial. But that won't stop him from being hung without so much as a proper trial."

Bakura was getting closer now, creeping silently behind the low hanging trees and thick grasses. He had his gun drawn and he was holding the very tip. No one in their group killed innocents. And Yugi was practically as innocent as they came. Atemu had to admit that Yugi was quite possibly even a do-gooder.

He could only hope Bakura was gentle.

"Then I'm going to have to put you under arrest if you choose to hinder me any further," Yugi said regretfully. His gun wavered for a moment with indecision and he looked up at the dark gunslinger with a mixed expression on his face, "Atem-...!"

Whatever he was going to say was cut short. Bakura had chosen that moment to sneak up behind Yugi and crack the butt of his gun across the back of Yugi's skull. The inventor collapsed like a rag doll under the strong blow and Atemu lunged forward to catch him before he could hit the ground.

"Shit! Bakura did you have to hit him so hard?" Atemu half snarled, angry that his friend had treated his little one so roughly, "He better not be bleeding." Atemu growled threateningly as he checked Yugi's head.

Bakura rolled his eyes and busied himself with cutting Mariku loose. "Better him than you 'temu." He said shortly, "If I didn't hit him right he could have squeezed the trigger on accident and blown you a new hole in your head. And you already have more than enough of those."

Atemu growled angrily and cradled Yugi to his chest for the moment before looking around. "Damn it Bakura, your informant set you and Mariku up for a fall! Gozaburo knew you two were coming!"

"I know, _I know_!" Bakura growled and hoisted Mariku up, "We need to get out of here while the going is good. Who knows how many more men like him – " He nodded towards Yugi, " – Will be out doing Gozaburo's dirty work tonight."

Heaving a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world, Atemu nodded reluctantly. Damn, things had just been getting good between him and the little Marshall. He gently deposited Yugi by the side of the house and covered him up with his duster, deciding to let his look-a-like keep it. He really didn't like the idea of leaving him unprotected and injured in Gozaburo's care. Especially where any of the party-goers could take advantage of Yugi's vulnerable state, so Atemu made sure he was carefully concealed in the bushes where no one would think to find him.

"Alright," Atemu muttered grimly as he walked quickly towards where he had tied Rocky up. Bakura and Mariku quickly followed and hopped onto their own mounts after Atemu, "Lets ride."

--::--

_**Alright, here's the end of chapter 2. What did you guys think? I'll admit I'm a bit rusty with the puzzleshipping and I haven't had it so close to the beginning of a story before. I'm freaking out a bit. **_

_**See you next chapter!**_

_**ZB**_


	4. Chapter 3

_**Sorry for the late post guys. I beta'd this myself so I apologize for any errors. **_

--::--

When Yugi finally stirred he became uncomfortably aware of a sharp branch jutting into his lower ribcage. He creaked violet eyes open and grumbled as he saw the sky just beginning to grow a warm pink from the rising sun. _How long had he been out for?  
_  
He sat up, hissing his discomfort when his head shrieked in pain. A dizzying wave crashed over Yugi and his hand shot up to gingerly touch the tender sport on the back of his head. He suppressed a whine of pain as he felt a rather large knot on the base of his skull and he thanked whatever deity that was listening he didn't seem to have been bleeding. He didn't even want to think of the infections he could have gotten from the untreated wound, especially since Yugi had apparently spent the night outside in a bush. He wondered how he had managed to get into his current predicament.

Almost at once, memories came flooding back to Yugi in a storm and alarm shot through his body. The outlaws! Yugi had captured one of them but then Atemu... Yugi dipped his throbbing head down to his hands. The reminder of the sultry sweet kiss they shared echoed through Yugi's mind along with the feel of those fleeting lips against his. Atemu had gotten in his way and stopped Yugi from taking the bandit in.

His head gave another throb as if reminding Yugi of his injury. Who had struck him? Atemu had been in front of Yugi, both locked in a stare down. One of the bandits had been tied up behind him.

Ah... That was the key word. _One_ of the bandits had been tied up. Hadn't Yugi known that the outlaws always seemed to travel in a pair? Bakura and Mariku were partners on the field. The other must have snuck up behind Yugi when Atemu kept him distracted. The tender knot on the back of his head spoke volumes of how the bandit had decided to 'deal' with Yugi. At least he wasn't dead.

Yugi quickly looked over himself as he did a fast inventory of his belongings. Much to his relief, he found that all of his possessions remained largely untouched. The fact alone was surprising considering the outlaw's history. They were known to be petty thieves at best. Honestly, Yugi was surprised he hadn't woken up in a ditch, completely nude and stripped of every copper button in his possession.

A better question yet, was why hadn't the outlaws taken the opportunity when Yugi was prone to kill him? Yugi had seen one of their faces. He knew he couldn't have been wrong about suspecting the tan man he had trussed up as an outlaw. He had been far too collected, crazy, and calculating for him to be a regular civilian.

It would have been so much easier for them had they decided to kill Yugi.

Something slipped off of Yugi's shoulders and thumped to the ground when he shifted. Yugi looked back curiously and picked up the thick fabric which had pooled on the soft, Louisianan grass. Atemu's duster.

Yugi frowned. The gunslinger hadn't taken it back? Yugi felt a jolt of guilt strike him squarely between the eyes. Had Atemu kept Yugi safe from the outlaws? Was it possible? It wasn't unlikely that Atemu had managed to reason with them. After all, Gozaburo was supposedly their target and the two bandits most likely didn't want their darker natures to be found out by some heavily-armed civilian. Especially so close to the party where a gunshot would have been heard and alerted the guests to their presence.

Yes, that seemed to make sense in Yugi's rational mind.

Yugi jolted to his feet and fought back a sickening wave of vertigo the jerky move brought on. A sudden thought had occurred to him.

One that brought along dire consequences.

_Gozaburo_! He was Bakura and Mariku's primary target! For whatever reason, the two outlaws had it in for the businessman. Had they killed him like they had threatened to? It would be the sensible thing to go considering Yugi had been quietly disposed of. The thought that they had killed Gozaburo clouded Yugi's tired mind – but if he was honest, if they had gone ahead and killed Gozaburo Yugi wouldn't shed many tears.

He grabbed the coal duster and slung it over his shoulders as he sprinted to Gozaburo's manor. The frantic inventor threw open the front door, adrenaline numbing him to the pain in his head. He may not have liked the slippery businessman, but Yugi certainly didn't wish for his death. His feet pounded up Gozaburo's steep staircase, dodging over passed out and drunken party-goers who were scattered and strewn across the floor.

_Yeah, this is the cream of the crop right here,_ Yugi thought with bitter sarcasm. He soon skidded to a halt near the businessman's private room and promptly took to hammering on the fancy oak door.

"Gozaburo!" Yugi pounded on the door and tested the handle. He felt panic seize him when he realized it was locked and swiftly reached into his vest to pull out his set of lock picks. He eyed the lock critically as he tried to calm his pounding heart. To mess up now would be a great mistake on Yugi's part. As deftly as he could, he picked out a proper tumbler and slipped it into the keyhole.

After a few painstaking moments of wiggling and twisting the pin in the doorknob, the lock finally gave. Yugi swung the door open easily as he tried to breathe around his heart, which was trying to jump out of his throat in fear.

Yet the next moment which passed had Yugi staring in horror at the tangled body of Gozaburo and his current bedmate, engaged in all sorts of ... explicit activities. Gozaburo let out a furious shout at the sight of Yugi standing there in mute horror. The inventor quickly backpedaled his way out of the room as fast as humanly possible, trying to tear the sight of the businessman's wrinkled ass in the air and in his line of sight.

Apparently Gozaburo was just fine.

And now Yugi's mental state of being would never be the same again.

The inventor wondered if payment for a psychiatrist was a part of his pension.

Gozaburo was _more_ than fine if what Yugi had seen was enough evidence to go by. Yugi let loose a disgusted shiver as he quickly got the heck out of dodge and went back the stairs. He ran down the stairs just as quickly as he ran up clearly in more of a hurry this time. He didn't want to wait around until Gozaburo finished up and came after Yugi. The businessman had looked three different kinds of pissed and Yugi wasn't willing to wait around to see what Gozaburo could dish out as punishment.

Besides, his assignment was technically over. Bakura and Mariku had escaped, _again_, and left Yugi feeling completely foolish. He just wanted to return to DC and get his next job.

Yugi ran quickly out of the large manor and snagged his hat off the nearby rack as he went by. He quickly pulled Celtic out of the stables and after fumbling with the saddle for a moment Yugi managed to fasten it in place. He swiftly mounted the horse and tore off like a bat out of hell. If he moved fast enough, maybe he could leave behind the images of Gozaburo's folded ass in the dust.

It was wistful thinking on Yugi's part, but hell, he could try couldn't he?

--::--

Pain. That was all he was capable of knowing. His world was aflame with it, nerves screaming as they burned and melted together.

Joseph Wheeler, a smart talking yank who hailed from New York was currently sitting in rigid fear as the towering shape loomed over him. He had left his home up north to spend some time in the west, but now he was beginning to realize that hadn't been such a good idea. His leg was pinned underneath a large wooden beam which effectively trapped him in place. It made him perfect prey for the monster to descend on.

The town had been picked clean of residents. There was no one alive. Joey's breath caught on a choked noise and he reached back to fumble for a weapon of some kind. This monster wouldn't let anyone caught in its web leave. It had chosen this town as its hunting grounds. Trapping them all like flies in their own home. Those who wished to enter were welcome. Those who wished to leave...

Well they were not so lucky.

These monsters seemed to have an unappeasable appetite and they refused to stop their carnage until every morsel of food was gone. Anyone who attempted to escape would be ripped apart and dragged underground for only God knew what reason. Joey hadn't dared to leave the village, choosing instead to watch from afar.

The creatures were clever. They had cut the telegraph lines and their town had been unable to fix them properly for some time. Now the electrician was gone and dead so not even he could be of help beyond the grave. Joey was absolutely isolated from the outside world. Hell, Joey was isolated _period_. There was no one left in the village. Joey was absolutely alone. He had left his sister Serenity up north in New York with her fiancé' Tristan Taylor. Joey was grateful he had managed to have that much foresight.

He had originally thought the west was no place for a lady such as his sister. That statement was more correct than Joey could have ever imagined, but for entirely different reasons altogether. He was just glad she would be safe from this monster and live a happy, prosperous life with Tristan. Joey's only regret was that he would no longer be able to see his baby sister. He'd miss her wedding day. Leading her down the aisle and giving her away to Tristan.

Large cruel pinchers snapped inches from his face. The longs fangs dripped with venom and Joey felt his breath seize in his throat. Was this it? Could this be how Joey Wheeler met his end?

_No_! He refused to let himself die by the hands of this monster! He had too much to live for and too much to lose just to give up without a fight!

Honey brown eyes widened in shock as his hand found purchase on a burning log from a nearby fire. The yank gripped it like the lifeline it was and thrust it forward into the creature's compound eyes. The eyes were set far to the back of a sloping head so he only had one chance. One chance or his arm would be caught by those wicked pinchers just dying for a chance to take a chunk out of the human.

Luckily, Joey's aim struck true and the creature let out such an unearthly screech as the fiery blow landed, Joey was forced to drop his weapon so he could clap his hands over his ears. It was like the shrieking of a banshee, horrible and painful to any who were unfortunate enough to listen.

Joey took the opportunity while the beast was distracted to shove the beam off his leg and continue his frantic escape to safety. His chest heaved from exertion as he swiftly climbed up the side of a building using a ladder propped up to the side. His leg was probably sprained, but adrenaline was killing the pain. He needed to escape, get to higher ground.

Joey knew full well that it was only a temporary solution. The creature could easily scale this building in seconds. The yank knew he only had a few precious moments before the beast regained its sight and spotted Joey.

The blond man looked around his surroundings frantically for anything he might be able to use as a weapon against the thing. The bloated body of the creature was fumbling around just underneath Joey and he caught sight of a stack of rolled up logs positioned onto the top of the building he was on.

Yes! This was his chance! Joey would have to be very careful about his timing. He would only get _one_ shot at this and if he screwed it up, his life was as good as over. The yank crept towards the logs and silently untied them. It forced him to steady the logs with his hands as he looked down on the swollen body of the hateful creature down below.

The yank cast his gaze down at the hairy body that was coming around beneath him. He gathered his courage and began to stomp his feet against the roof to capture its attention.

"Hey you damned freak!" Joey roared, sounding a hell of a lot braver than he currently felt. His blood froze as the beast turned towards him, hisses and clicks coming from wicked pinchers. "Yeah! That's right! You want your meal ticket? Well come up here and get me!"

Joey's breath caught as the monster's compound eyes finally caught sight of him on top of the roof. It let out a few indistinct noises before taking the bait. It began to rush up the side of the house, faster than Joey could have guessed possible. The creature had scaled the side of the house in just a few beats and it was already beginning to climb up the edge to the roof.

Honey brown eyes widened to impossibly huge levels and Joey's knee-jerk reaction caused him to stumble backwards and let go of the logs. Joey's attempt to distance himself from the creature pushed him back with enough force to propel the wooden trunks forward towards the monster. They rolled and bounced over one another, crashing into the beasts' front legs just as it crawled on top of the roof. Joey gasped as he watched the monster topple backwards and unbalanced off the building.

The yank ran to the side, just in time to see the creature's soft underbelly before a ton of logs fell and crushed it under their weight. Brown eyes were wide with horror as he watched the beast which had killed off every living soul in town twitch jerkily. Its movements were slow and erratic before it finally stilled.

Joey collapsed onto the roof, his arms curling around himself in an attempt to protect himself from the scene he had just witnessed. The thing was dead and he was alive.

A dry sob tore from his throat and Joey Wheeler huddled around himself, curled into a tight ball for protection from a beast that was no longer alive. He would force himself to be strong later. But for now he would let himself come apart at the seams.

He was bleeding, injured and emotionally exhausted. Joey cast terrified eyes down towards the ground at the creature's dead form. His lip curled in disgust at its still body. This creature had killed every last living thing around and made this place into a literal ghost town. Joey had done his best to help people but all of his efforts had only come up short. Friends and neighbors were all gone. Killed.

Killed by the one thing that laid dead at the base of what had been the banker's house. Joey clutched his fists into his blond hair as his shoulders shook with grief. Duke. Rebecca. Professor Hawkins. They were all gone. Dead.

Brown eyes narrowed with rage, tears filling Joey's vision. This creature was dead, but what if there were more? Joey gathered his courage and rubbed his eyes clean. What if there were more creatures like this? Terrorizing the west and killing innocent people?

No more.

No more casualties.

Joey would warn someone, _anyone_ about what he had seen. It was ridiculous and a crazy tale but Joey would tell it to anyone who would listen. If no one cared to listen, then Joey would take matters into his own hands.

--::--

Two weeks later found Atemu on his way to Washington for a new assignment. He had taken a bit of a break after the fiasco at Gozaburo's to help Bakura and Mariku get off of the government's radar for a while. Knowing those two it had been a pointless waste of time considering how easily they got distracted. It was only a matter of time before they were up to their usual tricks and schemes again. Or if Atemu was honest with himself – he'd admit it'd probably only take a day, before those two did something stupid and garnered the government's attention all over again.

Idiots.

Whatever mess they found themselves in was not Atemu's problem anymore. So if they found that their asses were on fire, they'd have to put it out themselves. Atemu had a job to do. It was a job he liked and was good at even though it got him about as much respect as a dirty pig. It was also a highly distracting job.

One that would keep Atemu's mind occupied and off of a certain violet-eyed man who continued to haunt the gunslinger's every waking dream. Goddamn Yugi. The beautiful inventor was the subject of many dreams Atemu had, and the sole reason why the cowboy hadn't been able to get to sleep at night.

He rode into DC, ruby eyes flicking around as they took in the surroundings. The Capital was under construction in the distance, its large, half finished dome gleaming in the sun. Atemu approached the gates of the White House. It was a beautiful building with large pillars and sloping ceilings. Still looking up at the impressive building, Atemu dismounted Rocky and loosely tied him up beside the other horses nearby.

"I'll be right back," Atemu stroked Rocky's glossy neck and patted his hind affectionately. He adjusted his hat on top of his spiky hair before strolling through the fancy gates up the straight cut lawn. When he reached the door, there was already a surly looking man waiting to let Atemu in. The gunslinger offered him a casual nod before striding in, spurs clicking rhythmically against the hardwood floor as he walked.

He walked the well memorized path to President Grant's office but was stopped by one of the perpetually cranky looking agents assigned with the job of protecting the president. Not that Atemu could really blame him for the attitude. His position as 'bodyguard' essentially meant he had to look forward to a full day of babysitting a full grown man who was in charge of running their country.

"I'm going to need to do a search before you can see the President," The husky man eyed Atemu with obvious distaste. His eyes travelled down to Atemu's sides where he could spot the handle to one of Atemu's handguns peeking out through the edge to his new duster. "You can't take that inside with you."

Atemu raised an eyebrow. As one of the President's agents, he was allowed to take his weapons with him. He wasn't willing to bow down to this man's requests, no matter how crappy a job he had. Or how foul a mood he was in. Judging by the irritatingly smug look on the guard's face, he thought it would be easy to disarm Atemu...

Slowly he drew his gun and spun it so he was holding onto the tip and offering the handle out towards the man in front of him. When the man reached for it though Atemu spun it back around so the gun was instead pointed up at the man.

"You see, when you try to take someone's gun, that type of playing gets you killed," Atemu said warningly. Hard ruby eyes met the surprised and frightened of the man's unwaveringly for a long moment. "You might want to reconsider who you take weapons from."

He holstered the gun and the man, deeming it was safe went for it a second time. However he was stopped by the cold touch of metal just underneath his chin.

"My, _my,_" Atemu said patiently with a deadly soft purr. His second gun was resting gently against the security man's jaw. "Someone doesn't learn his lesson fast at all, does he? I'm from the west. You'll find more than just _two_ weapons on me."

The man just froze and slowly nodded as he drew his hand away from Atemu's waist. "Uh, you can go on ahead."

Atemu nodded and holstered his weapon a second time. The gunslinger truly hated having to intimidate people to get the results he wanted, but it simply wasn't a realistic possibility for him to hope otherwise. They would always attempt to get by his guard thinking he was simply a pushover. In fact the man he had just dealt with was one of the smarter ones. It wasn't uncommon that Atemu would sometimes be forced to beat his point into the skulls of those who were slightly thicker than others.

"Making friends as usual I see," A gruff voice sounded to Atemu's right, "You're right on time Mr. West."

The gunslinger turned in surprise and smiled slightly as the President made his presence known. Atemu had walked into the Oval office, but instead of being seated at his desk, President Grant was sitting by the door waiting for Atemu to arrive.

"Good morning Mr. President," Atemu greeted evenly as he turned towards the older man, "And thank you for the compliment sir."

President Grant waved off Atemu's response and peered at the crimson-eyed gunslinger idly, "I trust your travels were comfortable?"

"Very smooth sir," Atemu eyed him curiously. President Grant had never been known for his idle words or chit chat. In fact the president often hated having his time wasted about something insignificant like the weather. Atemu frowned. "Is something the matter sir?"

President Grant sighed and rubbed his hand through his thick beard as Atemu asked a question it was clear he didn't really want to answer. "Most likely not, but I can't really be sure."

Atemu's eyebrows disappeared behind blond bangs and he crossed his arms over his chest. "Please Mr. President. Feel free to clarify at your leisure." He drawled dryly. "I have all day."

Just like the president, Atemu had a quick fire temper and hated beating around the bush for details. He knew it was a trait the president appreciated so it was no wonder why Atemu was one of his more called upon agents. Because of those similarities, they had a few things in common. They both liked getting to the point without dancing around the topic, and hated having their time wasted. Atemu eyed the president with interest as he paced to his desk and gestured for Atemu to take a seat in one of the chairs provided.

"Once again you get down and dirty with the details," Grant nodded hummed to himself, "Very well, I'll get to the point so you can enjoy your afternoon doing whatever you please."

"There have been a strange number of events going on that have just recently been brought to my attention," The president gestured towards a map spread out on his desk and Atemu drew his chair nearby so he could get a better look. Grant tapped his finger against several areas that were clustered around the west.

"Do you recognize any of these towns Atemu?" Grant asked the cowboy somberly.

Atemu looked down at the towns the president was pointing out and nodded, "They were some of the States' most renowned mining towns before they were deserted. They were said to be part of our main source of gold for the country. Now they're just abandoned ghost towns."

President Grant nodded, "Yes. But it's strange..."

Atemu frowned and rested his elbows on the president's desk as he gazed at the map. "What's strange about it sir? Ghost towns pop up all the time. Once the gold, silver, and copper are picked clean from a mine, the people move out since there's nothing of value keeping them there anymore."

This gained Atemu an agreeing nod from the president. "That's what I thought at first too Mr. West. However, that wasn't _just_ what has come to my attention alone."

Atemu frowned and leaned back in his chair, "Then what has?" He questioned. Ruby eyes never left the map and Atemu had a feeling that Grant was about to get to the point of the cowboy being summoned to the white house.

"These mines are still turning a profit," President Grant frowned as he pointed to the ghost towns. "All of them. They're still lush with unused resources. According to my inside source, when the towns were deserted, the private owners of the mines were desperate to get something out of their losses and sold their property. We did some digging and they've all been bought by the same person."

Atemu frowned and suspicion flared in his stomach. Okay, the fact that these mines were supposedly still largely unused was a strange development. It was even stranger that they had all been bought by a single person. Who could afford to buy a mine? And who would want to buy a seemingly dead one?

"So who's the lucky scoundrel that's been buying these mines off of the desperate owners?" Atemu questioned, his eyes travelling lazily over the map. "Sounds like this guy knows when to buy low and sell high. He's a real investor."

President Grant nodded, "He certainly is." The man grumbled, "He calls himself 'Anakin' and he's making a killing off of the profits that _should_ be going to the States to help with Reconstruction."

Atemu was numb to the rest of Grant's words past the name 'Anakin.' There were not many with a name as distinctive as that.

"Anakin? You're sure that's the name?" Atemu asked quietly. What was his lying and traitorous uncle up to now? That monster had done enough damage to Atemu in the course of his life. Anger boiled in his veins as he thought back to the memories in his childhood. He would not allow that monster of a human to continue to hurt others like he had Atemu and the rest of their family.

"Yes I'm sure of it." President Grant looked at Atemu warily. He wasn't sure he should let the agent go if he didn't have the proper emotional control. However he already knew from experience that once Atemu set his mind to something it was pretty much useless to fight him on any grounds.

Luckily the president had enough foresight to predict his agent's hair trigger temper. The president didn't know a damn thing about Atemu and he liked to keep things that way, but Grant _also_ knew Atemu had a problem with letting his emotions get to him on occasion. The gunslinger was a real spit fire. And it would only take another spit fire to deal with Atemu accordingly.

"Do you accept this mission?" Grant asked the stiff looking agent lazily. "Your mission would be to find Anakin's purpose behind gaining these mines, along with finding out what has been driving these people out of their towns. Keep in mind these two might be unrelated. Whatever your grudge is with Anakin, don't let it cloud your mind when dealing with someone innocent."

Atemu growled in frustration.

"I thought you'd say something like that," Grant mused, never breaking eye contact with his agent, "You're such a hothead Atemu. Business first as always, just so you can retain that perfectly untouched score of successful missions. That's why I'll be assigning you a partner on this job."

Atemu's mouth promptly unhinged and hit the floor.

"Say what?" Atemu all but shouted. He looked at the president in shock, "What have I done to deserve such treatment?" He demanded. "I don't need a partner! I never have and I never will!"

"As much as I'd like for you to fly solo like usual, not every situation calls for your patented approach of 'Shoot first, shoot again, shoot some more, and then when everyone's dead, try and ask a question or two,'" President Grant raised an eyebrow at Atemu as if daring to argue with him. After all it was true, "You need someone who can calm you down. Mirror you so you don't get out of hand."

Atemu narrowed his eyes angrily but said nothing at first. Eventually however, he dropped the glare and looked at the president skeptically. "Alright. So who is this 'Mirror-man'?" He raised an eyebrow.

Obviously Atemu was simply trying to patronize the president. He didn't think a partnership of any kind would work. He was just far too used to working alone. And if he wasn't working alone, Atemu was working with his outlaw family: Bakura and Mariku. Neither of which were the best examples for Atemu. Not that the gunslinger would tell President Grant _that_ particular fact.

"He's waiting outside," President Grant nodded towards a door to the side that lead to a hallway which branched off to another part of the white house, "He's already been briefed on the mission. So why don't you two get to know one another before you both head out?"

Atemu pressed his lips together, obviously hoping for a chance to get out of this without the use of a partner. He wanted this mission though. It had to do with Anakin, a fact which filled Atemu with rage. This could be his only chance to nail that bastard to the floor, but he didn't want some government official breathing down his back and babysitting him. That would put a damper on all of Atemu's plans.

Seeing the stern look on President Grant's face, Atemu deflated some. He merely nodded and headed towards the door. "I'll go ahead and do that sir." He said softly.

He pushed the door open and stepped into the hallway with a small grunt of annoyance. He didn't really want to become this guys' pal. Especially since Atemu would be trying his damned hardest to ignore him for the majority of the trip and in between on stops.

President Grant didn't know he was doing by forcing Atemu to have a partner. They were more trouble than they were worth and always stuck their necks in places where they didn't belong. It made Atemu's job twice as nerve wracking as it did before and it would be double this time considering Atemu's history with Anakin.

Although to be fair, the poor guy probably didn't know he was getting in the way of Atemu's life-long revenge scheme against his deranged bastard of an uncle.

Atemu ultimately decided he would try his best to be fair and polite to the man. However he would make no overture to be overtly kind. Atemu clearly didn't want a partner and it simply wouldn't be a part of the gunslinger's character if he went ahead and decided to be chums with the fellow.

He closed the door behind him and looked up to get a good look at who would be his partner for the assignment. Atemu's crimson eyes widened in utter shock and his jaw practically hit the floor for a second time that day.

No.

No way, it couldn't be.

The very man who had been haunting Atemu's dreams was standing there, staring up at Atemu with equal shock. The last time either men had seen one another was when they were staring each other down the muzzles of their guns. Atemu's heart jumped to his throat and all common sense and intelligence promptly went sailing out the window.

"Why hello there," Atemu looked at Yugi with undiluted shock, "Fancy meeting you here."

The clock struck High Noon.

--::--

_**Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, and whatever else you celebrate! This is my present to all of you! A measly chapter of High Noon! I hope you guys liked it.**_

_**Holy crap, what were those creatures doing attacking Joey? My God! Could that have been the **_**plot**_**!? **_

_**Naw, of course not. That was just me in a monster suit.**_

_**Tell me what you guys thought, reviews are what fuel my writing spirit!**_

_**ZB**_


	5. Chapter 4

_**Sorry about the slow updates with this fic. Yes, it's still alive. Why look! It's a pulse! Anyway, I actually just forgot to post this chapter. Please forgive me! D:**_

--::--

Atemu looked out the train's window and could barely contain his sigh of frustration as he felt Yugi's eyes drilling into the back of his skull from across the aisle. The Marshall hadn't breathed so much as a word to him since President Grant introduced them to one another a week ago, and even their handshake had been nothing more than the most fleeting of touches. He was honestly surprised Yugi hadn't ratted him out for hindering an arrest to one of two high profile outlaws right there on the spot. That could have easily taken Atemu off the case and would only be the start of his problems. His badge would have undoubtedly been pulled and he would most definitely be thrown in jail for life.

Where he was jailed mattered a great deal. After all, some jailers weren't cut from a kind cloth, and it wasn't unheard of for a colored man to go "missing" down south. It wasn't as if anyone would look into his disappearance.

Needless to say, he was grateful Yugi hadn't said anything to the president about the incident a few weeks back. Ruby eyes narrowed on the moving landscape as he pondered the reason why. He could see nothing Yugi could gain from holding his tongue...

...Unless Yugi was planning something in _retaliation_, otherwise he could not see the reason why the Marshall would bother. Regardless, he would put himself on guard for anything Yugi might pull.

Atemu nearly jumped out of his skin when something heavy and thick landed on his lap. He looked down in confusion to see his black duster neatly folded there. Apparently it had been cleaned before being returned as it didn't appear to have dirt on it – dirt which Yugi no doubt would have collected when he slept on the ground. Atemu had completely forgotten about the duster. He had simply replaced it and moved on, considering he had never thought he'd be meeting up with Yugi a second time.

Obviously he had been wrong.

He looked up to see the Chinese Marshall standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. Violet eyes watched Atemu silently, almost as if assessing him.

"Thanks," Atemu nodded towards him and stood up. His eyes slid over Yugi and he knelt down to stow his duster under his seat. He could feel Yugi's eyes drilling holes into his back as he moved. The gunslinger was slow to sit back up as Yugi hadn't budged an inch.

"Is there something I can do for you Mr. Mouto?" Atemu asked, turning his head towards the side to look at Yugi. The Chinese man only frowned and took a seat in the booth, folding his arms over his chest and crossing his legs.

"I want answers," Yugi fixed the cowboy with a dark glare. He didn't bother lowering his voice as they were currently onboard a private train. No one would be able to overhear their discussion besides the engineer and Seto was currently in a different cart.

Well that was fast.

"Ah, so that's why you didn't turn me in to the President when you had the opportunity," Atemu murmured softly. He took his seat across from Yugi and hummed noncommittally under his breath, "I had certainly wondered."

Yugi's cheek twitched in a clear sign of annoyance and his eyes narrowed, "I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt before, but not now." The small man gritted his teeth, looking fierce. "Not now that I know you're a _**U.S Agent**_."

Atemu spread his hands to the sides and met Yugi's gaze squarely. He would have to trend very carefully here. His partner didn't find him remotely trustworthy and any false move could very well end with Atemu in handcuffs. Not that he would go down without a fight – especially when he found himself getting closer to the man who had sold out his family. No, Yugi could have the pleasure of turning Atemu in if he so please, but only _after_ he had gotten his revenge against that bastard.

"Perceptive Yugi," His lips quirked at the corners in a smirk, "But what appears to be the problem?"

Yugi glowered at the casual usage of his name but ignored it, "You stopped an arrest even though I announced my rank as a Marshall. You of all people should know better!" He leaned forward, amethyst eyes glittering with rage. "On top of that, I bet you saw one of those bandits sneaking up behind me. It was dark outside, but not that dark."

Atemu remained silent but crimson eyes continued to watch Yugi sharply. The Little One was fast. Clever and intuitive enough to make a connection that most people would overlook. His respect for the other grudgingly raised a few notches.

"And?" He asked flatly.

"_**And**_ you did nothing to apprehend the man who attacked me!" Yugi all but shouted, his cheeks flaming red with anger. "One was tied up and the other was walking slowly in your direction." Purple eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Additionally, they knocked me out but left you unharmed."

Atemu raised a skeptical eyebrow, "How would you know if they left me unharmed? If I recall correctly, you had been knocked unconscious."

Yugi smirked wryly. His head had long since healed from the attack, but the reminder of the knot still made his blood boil. He glared up at the stoic gunslinger, upset that the other could look so calm and collected while being thoroughly interrogated.

"If you had been attacked, I would have woken up with a slit throat." Yugi hissed quietly.

If he woke up at all that is.

Bandits and outlaws in the west were known for their ruthlessness. It was stupid to let an attacked person live, especially if they saw the other's face. Mercy was the fastest way to get a mug shot plastered on a 'Dead or Alive' wanted poster. Bounty hunters were all too willing to take up the job of hunting outlaws down and the hefty reward money appeal to many.

Atemu felt Yugi's reasoning strike a chord of truth. Apparently he let something show on his face because a second later Yugi was grinning with victory. Not good.

"What do you want me to say?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow at Yugi, "That I intentionally protected them?"

"You held me at gunpoint so the second bandit could sneak up behind me and clock me," Yugi muttered. "You weren't at all hesitant about pulling that trigger either."

"To be fair, you held me a gunpoint as well," Atemu shrugged his shoulders, "I make a habit of never dropping my weapon first. Regardless of the reason."

"Bullshit!" Yugi swore and stood up erratically before sitting back down. His eyes flashed angrily and he hissed at the calm gunslinger, "I think you _**wanted**_ them free."

"And if I did?" Atemu asked softly, crimson eyes narrowing on Yugi with the slightest hint of a threat. He couldn't allow the only two people left in his life that could even remotely be considered his family be locked away, "Would you take me in with Bakura and Mariku?"

"Yes," Yugi growled and stiffened. He felt a shiver run down his spine under the force of Atemu's glare. The gunslinger was downright scary when he wanted to be, but Yugi refused to let himself be frightened off. "You'd be aiding and abetting. It's a federal offense, so I'd be taking you in."

Atemu's lips curled at the corners much to Yugi's surprise. What was the gunslinger thinking to smile like that – it's not like they were having a casual conversation here. The Marshall was seriously intending to drag the other's attractive ass into jail. Yugi didn't see what was so funny.

"I'm sorry," Atemu let out a chuckle and he slipped his hat onto his head. "But it sounds to me that you only have circumstantial evidence on me." He let a confident smirk trace over his face, not noticing the angry flash cross over Yugi's eyes. "So essentially what it boils down to, is your word against mine."

Atemu swung his legs up onto his side of booth and laid back so he could stretch out to his full length comfortably. He tipped his hat over his eyes, signaling the end over the conversation. "You don't have enough to put me away for life, much less a night."

"Oh don't I?" Yugi asked softly, in such a dangerous tone it sent alarm bells off in Atemu's head. He slowly lifted the rim of his hat, one crimson eye flashing up to Yugi curiously.

"Pardon?"

Yugi shook his head and only smiled threateningly at the lazy gunslinger. He shrugged his shoulders for a moment and looked back at Atemu, "I know several judges from the Deep South who'd gladly put you on trial for whatever. It'll give me enough time to gather some solid evidence on you. _They_ could hold for a night." Yugi shrugged, "And sometimes one night is all they need."

Atemu went very still at Yugi's threat but when the gunslinger slowly sat up it was clear by the dark smirk on his face that he was amused, not angry. He gave Yugi an interested look and quirked an eyebrow under the bridge of his hat.

"I think you need to learn to bluff better than that," He purred lowly and stood up to walk up and down the aisle to the train. There was a small flash of steel behind his ruby eyes, "You're too _yellow_ to pull a stunt like that."

Yugi's eyes widened in shock at the usage of the word 'yellow' and a flush of anger colored his cheeks. The Marshall stood up and marched after Atemu, gritting his teeth, "That was a cheap shot." He hissed.

"You took the cheap shot first," Atemu reminded Yugi with a smirk. He sobered up after a moment and raked a hand through his hair, "But it was uncalled for, I apologize."

Yugi merely grunted in response, seemingly not at all willing to forgive Atemu just yet. The gunslinger sighed and gently reached forward to direct Yugi's face towards his.

"And I'm truly sorry for what happened back in Louisiana. I had no idea something like that would happen, I don't know why the events unfolded they way they did. Unfortunately now we're forced to work together so can we at least try to get along?" Atemu asked softly, staring into beautiful eyes which had done a marvelous job in haunting the gunslinger. "At least long enough for us to solve this mystery and move on with our lives?"

Yugi shifted anxiously in Atemu's grasp and his gaze flitted around the room, trying to look anywhere else but those captivating eyes that did strange things to him. Atemu made him so angry with the way he spoke in riddles and the calm way he presented himself. He manipulated his words in such a way that it forced Yugi to draw his own conclusions, and whether or not they were right was not information Atemu was willing to share.

He didn't know if he could trust this attractive man long enough to be his partner. However Yugi found he didn't have much of a choice in that regard. He cursed and finally looked up into Atemu's burning gaze.

"Okay," Yugi conceded, "I'll work with you. _For now_."

Atemu smiled, "Excellent." He stuck his hand out and grasped Yugi's firmly. He couldn't help but note that the Marshall's skin felt exactly how Atemu remembered. Soft and silky, his smaller hand fit perfectly in Atemu's. "My name is Atemu West. I'm an Agent for the U.S. government, you may call me Atemu."

Yugi smiled slightly, still not at all willing to trust Atemu, but knowing he had to at least try for the sake of their current assignment. "My name is Yugi Mouto. I'm a U.S. Marshall working for the American government. I suppose you can call me Yugi if you wish."

Atemu nodded and smiled over at Yugi before letting go of his hand. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance Yugi." He beckoned the other forward and nodded towards a map that was positioned on the wall.

"I think it's time we talked about our current mission and set aside talk about Bakura and Mariku for later." Atemu nodded towards Yugi. The Chinese man looked annoyed for a moment before he caved in and approached the map.

"Well we're currently en route to California. There we'll go ahead and poke around the abandoned mines to verify if they're really still rich with minerals. From there we'll visit each of the surrounding ghost towns to look for clues."

The two continued to outline their plan and route they intended to take throughout the west to make the trip as short as possible. They would be arriving at their destination in only a few short days, and had spent the majority of their trip thus far in stubborn silence instead of planning the next points. Now they had to make up for lost time.

--::--

A few days later Yugi and Atemu found themselves in Upper California, walking both of their horses into the deserted town of Coloma. The sun was hot overhead and the ground stiff underfoot. From where both U.S agents stood, they could see the decaying and rotting buildings, unkempt and vandalized over a years' worth of neglect.

"Lovely place," Atemu muttered as he hooked his thumbs around his belt. Ruby eyes slid over the derelict town with a practiced eye. "It's a bit run down for having only been deserted for a year." He noted with a frown. He vaguely noticed Yugi nodding in agreement out of the corner of his eye, but he was really too focused on how poor the outward appearance of the town looked.

The houses and shops were mere skeletons of their former selves with the side paneling ripped off and gaping holes left in the walls. The blackened and ash colored windows stared out at the travelers like blank eyes. Those were the eyes that had witnessed the death of its town and had been unable to do a thing to stop it.

Atemu cursed softly and slowly lead Rocky into town. He hadn't come up this way in a while. His travels had taken him elsewhere so he hadn't had a chance to do rounds through the West. How had the government allowed something like this to go on for so long? Did they even know where all the _people_ had gone? His gaze drifted up towards the Saloon where the wide glass window had been smashed in. No doubt by bandits looking to pick off whatever was left in town.

Scowling, Atemu tied Rocky up to the shattered post by the side of the Saloon and walked in. The door was barely holding on, with only one twisted hinge remained attached to the frame. The gunslinger walked in, his spurs tapping softly against the rough wooden floor as he entered. The room was a mess. Upturned chairs and tables littered every corner of the narrow room.

A single glass was resting on a counter which remained the only thing in the saloon that went untouched.

Perhaps outlaws had been responsible for driving the people out of town?

Atemu dismissed the thought almost as soon as it occurred to him. There was a sheriff's office right across the street and next to it a post office. If the sheriff had been unable to deal with the ruffians then the post office would have been able to send off a telegram to request aid from a neighboring town or official.

Yugi joined him after similarly tying up Celtic. Instead of surveying the scene like Atemu however, he dropped to his knees and began to crawl around on all fours. The gunslinger looked at the presented scene with a raised eyebrow. Altogether Yugi looked rather silly fumbling on the ground like that, but Atemu also had to admit to the appeal the other presented. On all fours like that, oh Yugi was certainly an attractive partner. Highly tempting. Too bad they were only barely civil with one another, because if they _were_ on good terms Atemu would take every opportunity to get the inventor into his bed. A jolt of surprising heat hit him squarely in the groin and Atemu coughed to distract himself from the direction his thoughts took.

"What're you doing down there Mr. Mouto?" He asked, keeping his gaze trained on the smaller man and praying to god that Yugi didn't notice the slight shake to his voice.

It obviously went unnoticed as Yugi was far too busy groping the ground to realize how much Atemu wanted to grope _him_, "I'm looking for something."

Atemu leaned back against the bar and rested on his elbows. He looked down at Yugi skeptically, "That's quite obvious."

He lazily picked up the milky glass and eyed it silently, "But _what_ could you possibly be looking for?" Atemu set the glass back down and shifted his feet so he could cross his ankles.

His toe connected with something round and metallic, sending it skittering across the hardwood floor. Atemu crouched down to inspect what he had kicked, being careful not to lean against his spurs. The metal object, much to Atemu's intrigue, was a bullet. It was far too large to belong to a regular gun, and too small a container to hold an explosive. So it belonged to a shotgun then.

"Is this what you've been looking for?" He asked lowly. Slim fingers picked the shell up to hold it to the light, inspecting it with keen eyes. The sun glinted gold off of the empty container which quickly drew Yugi's attention. The inventor spotted it and a wide grin split over his features.

"Yes it is!" Yugi held up a similarly matching shell to Atemu and smiled. "Two shots. " He frowned, "Unfortunately this complicates things."

Atemu frowned as he looked underneath the counter and found the weapon itself, empty and abandoned. He set it on the counter and righted one of the stools so he could sit down. One elegant eyebrow was arched at Yugi and he rapped his fingers against the scarred wood.

"I'm not following that logic Yugi," He admitted with a grimace and gestured towards the trashed Saloon. "One, there was a struggle." He pointed to the gun, "Two, the owner obviously lost." He spread his arms and looked at the vandalized bar. He pointed to the dark red stains on the wooden floor he had previously overlooked. "He _definitely_ lost this one Yugi."

"And finally my third point, there isn't a drop of liquor, money, or anything of even slight value left besides that shotgun – and that doesn't count because it was in a hard to reach place and was probably overlooked." The gunslinger shook his head, "Everything points to outlaws raiding this place. There's nothing even remotely complicated about this case."

"Maybe," Yugi said dismissively as he grabbed the shotgun off the counter. He rummaged around in the drawers behind the bar until he found a wooden box full of shotgun shells. He pulled out two fresh bullets, reloaded the shotgun and raised an eyebrow at the other agent, "Oh, they picked this place _clean_ did they?" He asked sarcastically.

Atemu rolled his eyes, "They didn't find the shotgun, so there's every chance they didn't want to lug around shells they couldn't shoot."

Yugi just rolled his eyes and snapped the barrel of the shotgun back in place. Swiftly, he turned around and aimed it at Atemu, keeping it cocked between his arm and side so he wouldn't be in any danger of hurting himself from firing the powerful weapon.

"Whoa, Yugi!" Atemu shouted in alarm and his crimson eyes went wide. "I know we're not the best of partners but I didn't think you were that angry with me."

The Marshall ignored Atemu in favor of nodding his head, obviously lost in his own thoughts, "Yeah. Alarm and fear are the normal response when you have a _shotgun_ pointed at you." Amethyst eyes drifted to Atemu, "Even a seasoned fighter like yourself gets scared when little old me points one of these bad boys at you."

"That's because it's a shotgun," Atemu eyed Yugi warily, "You don't even have to aim one of those things to completely disembowel a person and anyone unlucky enough to stand next to them – now will you please stop _pointing_ it at me?" He demanded.

Yugi persisted with his train of thought, once again ignoring Atemu completely, "Exactly, which is precisely the reason why it's impossible for some has-been outlaws to take the owner of the saloon down!"

"But there was a struggle," Atemu pointed out and slowly reached forward to point the muzzle of the loaded shotgun down to the counter and away from his person. Yugi blinked in surprise before he laughed sheepishly, Atemu smiled patiently before continuing, "And there are very few things left in the Saloon."

Yugi shook his head and frowned, "My point being is that there wasn't _supposed_ to be a struggle if the Saloon keeper had a shotgun. The very sight of a loaded shotgun keeps a quick-draw like you shaking in his spurs. A bandit or an outlaw wouldn't have been able to stand up to him."

Atemu huffed, not sure if he should be complimented or insulted. He would take the safer route with silence just so he didn't anger his partner. After all, the shotgun was still loaded and within Yugi's easy reach.

Atemu thumped his hand on the counter to get Yugi's attention, "Wake up Yugi!" He said sharply, "While you make a very good point, you're operating on the assumption that this bandit was either alone or only had a single partner. One or more could have overpowered him before he managed a shot."

Ruby eyes flashed, "I think you're trying to turn this simple case into something it just isn't. This town isn't yielding much, besides a bloodstain, a few shotgun shells, and a trashed Saloon."

Yugi deflated a little at Atemu's sharp tone but kept a stubborn set to his jaw. Violet eyes flashed dangerously at the other, his temper flaring at the barb Atemu had delivered to his detective skills, "You need to pay attention Atemu. He _did_ manage a shot – two at that."

The gunslinger merely glared at Yugi before his expression lightened a few notches. He had no right to get angry over this. Yugi was just doing his job.

"What about the fact that this place has been picked clean?" Atemu asked tiredly, his eyes roaming across the Saloon.

Yugi shrugged and shouldered the shotgun, "I think scavengers came by and wrung out every last ounce of wealth from this town once they realized no one was living here anymore."

Atemu raised an eyebrow, "So you don't think bandits ran the people out?"

Yugi shook his head as he considered Atemu's question. His gut was telling him that it was something else. The evidence pointed to something else, perhaps something big and deadly, but not bandits. "No, and I don't think you do either."

"Then what do you believe came in through here?" Atemu stood up restlessly to fix Yugi with an irritable glare. According to Yugi's theory, whatever it was that had caused people to run out of town, it left a huge mess behind. A mess no one was willing to clean up.

"I'm not sure," Yugi admitted as he looked around the saloon critically, "But this disarray is far too big for bandits to have caused. If there was a large group of them, it's highly possible they could have overpowered him with minimal amount of bloodshed and property damage." He looked at the Saloon, "Any less and the Saloon owner would have been able to hold them off himself."

Atemu had to admit Yugi had a point. He surveyed the room one last time before he turned around and walked out, "Maybe they got their hands on one of those experimental tanks the military have been working on." He suggested with a teasing smirk.

Yugi blinked and grinned, "That's not a bad theory Atemu!" He said brightly as he slipped out a tiny notebook from his back pocket and a pencil. He scribbled down Atemu's 'idea' for possible suggestions at a later date.

Atemu had to stifle an audible groan.

Obviously his sarcasm had been lost on the Chinese man.

"We're not going to find anything else in town I think," Atemu unhooked Rocky from his tether and glanced back at Yugi, "I think we're going to have to look into the mine itself now." He shrugged his shoulders and began to lead his trusty horse towards the far end of the town.

Yugi quickly untied Celtic and hastened to follow Atemu. He looked at the other as they walked and his hand curled around the chestnut's reigns. "What would we find over there?" He asked curiously.

"Anything," Atemu lifted his hands in a shrug, "It's worth poking our nose in there. Besides, I want to see if there really is anything left in those mines. If there is..." He trailed off, a dark expression flickering over his face.

"Then we have a case?" Yugi finished, looking at the looming path in the distance.

"Then we have a case," Atemu agreed with a nod.

--::--

Atemu swore softly as the darkness of the mine swallowed him. He crashed into a rickety cart and braced himself against the side before he could fall and hurt himself. "I can't see a thing in here!" He looked around unseeingly.

A small flicker of light appeared just under his nose a second later. A small electric light on a base that contained a power source was resting in Yugi's hand. The inventor offered it to Atemu silently as he pulled out a spare light which he had hidden in one of his many pockets. Atemu accepted it gratefully and clipped it onto his duster so his hands would be free.

"What is this strange, portable light?" Atemu frowned at it curiously.

Yugi shifted slightly, obviously proud of his invention but doing his best to keep it off his face. "I call it the 'pocket light!'" He grinned.

Atemu rolled his eyes at the name and shook his head, "That'll never catch on Yugi." He thought for a moment, "You need something spontaneous, something flashy."

A sudden, broad smile crossed over Atemu's face and he snapped his fingers with sudden inspiration, "I know. You should call it the '_flashlight_!'"

Yugi gave Atemu a bland, unimpressed look. "Oh please." He rolled his eyes, "And you accuse me of having crappy names? That'll never catch on."

Atemu shot Yugi a sour look but turned away to begin walking deeper into the mine. He could hear Yugi's boots tapping along beside him and see the glow of his light as they walked further into the darkness.

The gunslinger frowned when his procession was halted by something catching his foot. He frowned and looked down in surprise. His foot was tangled in what appeared to be long, sticky white threads. He crouched down and settled his hand against the wall, only for him to realize too late that whatever had caught his foot was covering the walls as well.

"What in the desert's name _is_ this stuff?" He wrinkled his nose in disgust and attempted to shake the sticky, silk-like threads from his hand. They kind of looked like spider webs. Atemu frowned and managed to free himself from his sticky confines with some difficulty.

"What was the matter?" Yugi asked, coming up behind him. At Atemu's telling point to the white threads covering the wall, Yugi frowned in surprise.

"What is this?" He breathed in absolute shock. Atemu shook his head.

"I asked myself that very question," Atemu shrugged, "I thought it looked and felt a bit like a spider's web. But it's way too big for that to be possible."

"I've never seen anything like this before," Yugi murmured. He nodded to himself as if making a decision and knelt down next to the stuff. "Here, help me gather it."

"What? What for?" Atemu asked in surprise as he too dropped back to his knees. He looked around himself and grabbed an abandoned shovel. He scooped up the sticky pile of thread with the tool – having learned his lesson the hard way that this stuff was not to be touched. He waited for Yugi to open his sack before dumping the mess into the bag. He had to give it a firm shake as the webbing didn't seem to want to get off the shovel, "I hope you didn't have anything important in there because it's not going to be of much use soon."

"The bag was empty, don't worry about it," Yugi closed the flap to his sack when Atemu finally finished transporting the strange silk. He carefully slung the bag over his shoulder a second time and offered Atemu a smile in thanks for his help, "As for why, it's practically a part of my duty as a scientist to find as many unknown substances as possible and study them."

Atemu rolled his eyes, "That stuff isn't worth nearly as much as you think it is." He smirked before walking towards the pile of lonely tools he had pulled the shovel from. He replaced the tool he had used for Yugi's transfer and picked up a pickaxe.

"Now I think we're far enough in the mine that we stand a good chance of hitting a vein of something. Do you know what was supposedly in this mine?" Atemu asked Yugi curiously. The Chinese man had a habit of being a wealth of information, as Yugi poured over the small details of their assignment Atemu couldn't be bothered with until the wee hours of the morning.

Yugi nodded, "I believe this one has silver deposits." He watched as Atemu shouldered and approached one of the walls of the mine. The gunslinger unhooked the portable light from his duster and tossed it over Yugi. If it was still on him while he swung the tool, the light would shake and distract him.

"Keep the light steady so I can work." Atemu ordered and looked back at the inventor.

Yugi nodded when he caught the light. He fumbled it for a moment and shot Atemu a glare – who of course was no longer paying attention. Feeling up for a little retaliation for almost making him drop his inventions, he grasped both of the lights and angled them so they'd both shine on the gunslinger.

Atemu squinted and raised his hand to shield his eyes. Yugi thought he could see faint amusement on the other's face through the beam of the light. The other turned around so Yugi could no longer see or read the agent's expression. Sighing with defeat, Yugi realized this meant he could no longer blind Atemu with the portable lights.

"Hey, I said keep it steady, not shine it in my face," The gunslinger murmured and slipped off his duster, exposing a white shirt underneath. He wore a dark, charcoal vest which matched his discarded outer layer. The red bandanna that was tucked around his collar came slightly undone when Atemu removed the jacket.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience I must have inflicted on your poor eyes," Yugi rolled his own as if to make a point. Unfortunately it was lost as Atemu's back was still facing him. Biting the inside of his cheek Yugi let his eyes travel along the gunslinger's backside. He took in the way the dark pants Atemu wore seemed to hug his legs, showing off the flawless shape of his body and rear. Yugi bit his bottom lip as his appreciative gaze wandered along each contour of Atemu's form.

He had to remind himself that the gunslinger was an argumentative liar and dirty agent. Yugi knew Atemu had his own schedule for doing government work, and he did not like that in the slightest bit. Although if Yugi was honest with himself, he'd be able to admit the real reason why Atemu got under his skin so much.

It was his damnable attraction Yugi held for Atemu.

After that intimate kiss they shared, Yugi was left feeling unfulfilled and dissatisfied from the abruptness of their departure. He had wanted to finish what they started. Badly. He rubbed a hand over his itchy, tired eyes. What bothered Yugi even more was the fact that Atemu was seemingly unaffected by Yugi!

The gunslinger constantly kept a neutral expression on his face, carefully cultivated into a mask of confidence and self assuredness. Atemu never looked as if he unsure about anything, dealing with Yugi as swiftly as he would deal with anyone else. Yugi was certain he had just been a quick fling to add another notch on the bed post for Atemu.

And what bothered Yugi even more, was the fact that he was still dwelling on it while Atemu looked as if he had long since moved on.

Shaking his head in an attempt to dislodge the thoughts which were currently forming in his head, he forced himself to focus instead on the task he had been charged with. Twisting and angling the lights, he made them reflect instead on the surface area in which Atemu would be working.

"Thanks," Atemu turned with a small smile to acknowledge Yugi and slipped the pickaxe off his shoulder. The inventor's breath hitched slightly at the alluring smile that never failed to dazzle him. He bit the inside of his cheek sharply and gave Atemu's back a burning glare. Damn him! Damn him twice for being so obliviously at ease with the world! Didn't he know what he did to Yugi?

'_Obviously not,_' Yugi thought, grinding his teeth together in frustration.

He watched as Atemu slowly pulled his arm back and abruptly slammed it back towards the wall, cracking the pickaxe against the side of the mine. Bit by bit, Atemu worked the gradual process of chipping away at the stone wall. Yugi just watched on silently as small rock filaments began to crumble to the ground.

A few minutes passed, the only sound in the mountainous cave being the steady 'chink' of Atemu's pickaxe coming in contact with the stone's face. Eventually thanks to the gunslinger's hard work, a chunk of rock was loosened from the rest of the mine's wall and clattered to the floor near Atemu's boot.

The ruby eyed agent dropped down into a crouch and picked up the fallen stone. He turned it over for closer inspection. An audible gasp caught in his throat and he looked up at Yugi.

"Give me some light," He breathed, almost as if not daring to believe what had been laid out before him.

Curious, Yugi sunk down next to Atemu to get a better look at the rock which seemed to have stunned the quick-witted cowboy. He shone the light on the rock itself, his eyes widening as he spotted the same golden glint off of the stone which was the source of Atemu's surprise in the first place.

"_Gold_?" Yugi hissed in numb disbelief, his eyes widening to twice their normal size if that was even possible, "But this is a silver mine! I'm positive of that!"

He had done his homework on the ghost towns they'd be visiting, not once, not twice, but three times. Yugi always did his best to know every aspect of an assignment no matter its difficulty. He learned each case inside out to the fault. Every detail and facet was memorized in the hopes of making each assignment go as smoothly as possible without hitch in the plan. Yugi was never wrong about case details. Ever.

Except for now.

What was gold doing in a silver mine?!

"There's silver in here too," Atemu pointed out, his eyes a dark shade of crimson. They flicked up to Yugi's shocked face and they narrowed, "But that's not all. I also see some traces of copper, and what smells like sulfur."

"It's a mixed mine?" Yugi asked dazedly and he reached out for the rock. Atemu passed it over to him without question, dark eyes still focused solely on Yugi. The inventor ignored Atemu's stare for now and worked in favor of chewing on his lower lip. It was an anxious habit he always did while thinking and it had only gotten worse since he had come to know Atemu. The gunslinger was always frustrating Yugi to the point where he was unusually close to piercing the skin to his abused lip.

Ruby eyes zeroed in on the succulent and abused mouth, wanting nothing more than to kiss it and ease some of the pain their master was inflicting on it.

Yugi frowned at the silent agent, "Atemu?" He asked curiously. Ruby eyes focused on Yugi and Atemu coughed into his hand, embarrassed he had been caught daydreaming.

"Ah, yes. But I can't be sure until we get outside and get a better look at it," Atemu had been watching Yugi chew on his delectable lower lip. Those cherry-pink lips looked so kissable, so enticing from where Atemu was sitting. It didn't help that Yugi's constant chewing on it had made his tender lips swell, which only doubled their appeal to Atemu. For a moment before he was able to answer his partner's question, he had to simply take in the sight of Yugi.

Because if he didn't get a taste of _something_ soon, Atemu was going to go insane from having an appealing angel such as Yugi so close yet out of his reach. That train they were currently traveling on would be growing smaller and smaller the longer they'd spend in it. Additionally, that would mean more and more opportunities they'd have to run into one another.

He was screwed – and how he wished that was literally the case.

"Well then let's get going," Yugi murmured as he turned the rock over to continue inspecting it, "Regardless of what type of gold, silver, or shit is in this rock, that doesn't change the fact that the mine shouldn't have been abandoned. If only after a few minutes of mining deep inside here and you come up with a chunk of valuable mineral, it's more than fully loaded with wealth. It's mineral rich enough to sustain this town – and probably the neighboring ones – for a long time to come."

Atemu pulled his thoughts back into his head where they belonged and nodded his agreement. He tossed the pickaxe back amongst the tools from where he had retrieved it.

"Let's get back to the train and tell Kaiba it's time to leave," Atemu agreed and picked up his duster from the floor. He brushed it clean of the dirt and cobwebs clinging to his outer jacket.

Both he and Yugi left the way they came, unconcerned by the rest of the mine and the secrets it held.

Neither heard the soft clicks which echoed from the deep belly of the mine, nor did they see the anything. The darkness swallowed the light and hid everything from sight.

Neither noticed that whatever foul creature lurked in the mine had decided to pass on their lives. Either it was not hungry, or it didn't deem them big enough prey in a deserted town to be worth its interest. So as a result, Atemu only noticed something was amiss when the clock chimed at noon.

The gunslinger looked down at his watch warily and glanced around him as they began to ride out of town and back towards their private train. Yugi noticed Atemu's confused look and turned towards him curiously.

"What's the matter?" The inventor asked.

"It's High Noon," Atemu muttered as he gave his pocket watch a firm shake.

Yugi checked his own watch and nodded, confirming the time for the gunslinger. "Indeed it is." He noted before looking up at Atemu, "Is there something wrong with it being High Noon?"

Atemu nodded, frowning deeply. "Oh yes. There's something very wrong with it being High Noon." He gave his watch another shake, as if not willing to believe that it was telling him the right time. Atemu looked over his shoulder, down at the ground, to the sides, and finally to the sky – almost as if he was expecting a great ball of fire to rain down on him.

"And why's that?" Yugi asked with exasperated amusement.

Atemu looked at Yugi seriously before hesitating, almost as if he was afraid the other would start laughing at him. But when Yugi turned those large, beautiful eyes on Atemu, the gunslinger knew he was hopeless to resist.

"Something bad happens to me on High Noon _every_ day," He muttered. "It's like a curse that never seems to go away."

Yugi blinked at Atemu in surprise before a wide smile split over his face. "You're not kidding, are you?"

"No, I'm not," Atemu grumbled, upset that Yugi seemed to be laughing at his misfortune.

Upon seeing the pout adorning the normally serious Atemu's face, Yugi broke off into convulsive laughter. He clutched onto Celtic's neck so he wouldn't slip off of his horse's back, giggling with insane mirth even as Atemu broke off into reluctant chuckles of his own, spurred on by Yugi's own laughter.

Eventually both of them were reduced to laughing piles, just barely clinging onto their horses' reigns and necks to prevent from falling off in a completely undignified fashion. Although why they bothered was a mystery, as both had long since lost whatever dignity they had by the destruction of their convulsive laughter.

Yugi managed to calm down enough to check the time again. He smiled over at Atemu, feeling all around better now that he had gotten a good laugh.

"Well it is twelve-oh-one now," Yugi wiped his streaming eyes with the back of his sleeve and grinned, "The horrors of High Noon are well and gone now, so you don't have to worry about some random encounter with the god of discord – or something equally ridiculous anymore."

Atemu broke off into chuckles and he shrugged his shoulders, looking over at Yugi with a smile.

"No, I suppose I had a stroke of good luck for once," Atemu laughed, not aware of just _how_ lucky he had been.

--::--

_**I sadly keep forgetting to update this little story. It truly is a shame since I'm actually quite fond of it.**_

_**I love reviews, and your comments are quite rewarding.**_


	6. Chapter 5

_****inches into the fanfiction room but is promptly chased away by whatever rabid and furious readers remain****_

_**I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I've taken a while to update, I'll admit it! But I keep getting distracted by life. It happens y'know? **_

_**Anyway, I bring you the next chapter of High Noon. **_

_**-::-**_

Bakura grunted as Mariku's heavy body landed roughly on top of his. They had been expelled from a tavern thanks to their 'rough behavior.' Bakura had been content with just taking his drink and leaving, only to get revenge later. Mariku on the other hand was not. The crazy blond stood by his saying that the bastards just didn't know a party when it slapped them in the face with a broken whiskey bottle.

So when one of the drunken patrons laughed and hiccupped something about the quality of their town going down thanks to 'Wild Men' such as themselves, Mariku had no choice but to quietly make his point.

Thus he had set about proving his theory to the man's head, whiskey bottle and all – which of course landed them in their current predicament.

That man sure bled a lot.

"Get your fat ass out of my face," Bakura snarled and shoved the heavier outlaw off of him. Both scrambled to their feet and took off running towards the narrow alleyways between houses at a dead sprint, ducking behind water barrels and wagons.

It was dark outside, and Bakura thanked whatever deity was listening that he had thought to chop his hair to a reasonable length a week or so ago. Long white hair would have stuck out like a sore thumb and they would have been discovered in relatively short time – or they would have if Bakura and Mariku weren't so good at sneaking in and out of places undetected.

They along with Atemu had dedicated most of their lives to fooling others and hiding away from sight. Squirreling away food so they could survive, stealing tools and clothes they needed, or simply avoiding those who'd be willing to sell them back into slavery.

The two bandits managed to sneak back around the angry crowd which had formed to lynch the two and retrieved the horses. Both Bakura and Mariku were gone before the mob was even aware the two had doubled back around them.

The bandits rode fast and hard out of town, laughing over how they had once again escaped certain death by a wide margin. Being run out of town also didn't hurt their good moods considering Mariku had gotten a good swipe on that bastard's face and Bakura had gotten the drink he wanted.

When they were far enough away, Bakura slowed their breakneck run to steer the horse out towards their safe house they had set up in the area. It was close by so they wouldn't have to kill their horses to get there before the desert night got too cold. It was just a pity they would have to move it soon.

Atemu had helped the two outlaws set up camp here, but that didn't mean they would stay. And that definitely didn't mean they could easily stay there undetected, especially with the two bandit's lifestyle. That was why they never stayed at the safe house for any length of time unless they had to lie low for a while. And yet while no one really knew what the infamous bandits, Bakura and Mariku looked like; they still had a habit of causing trouble wherever they went. It was all for the sake of finding the information they needed.

Bakura trotted besides Mariku, lost in his thoughts as his thoughts drifted back to the day when Atemu had left to become a U.S. Agent, giving up his freedom as an outlaw in favor of dealing justice by the book. Bakura had scoffed at such ambitions, but hadn't fought him on it. Atemu had even suggested to Bakura and Mariku that they should try to join too. That way they wouldn't have to live their lives out in the wilds of the desert, running from the law and whoever carried it out.

Both however, had refused. Neither could see the appeal to a life like that. Atemu wanted to try and punish the people who had wronged them in the past by doing the noble thing. Bringing them to justice and having them tried as the criminals they were. But Bakura and Mariku weren't as naïve as Atemu was.

They knew that mean like Gozaburo were immune to the law. Reconstruction in the south was just a joke and they knew it. Just so long as Gozaburo had a fist full of cash, he could throw money at his crimes and make them disappear like a bad dream. All the lives he had ruined and people he had killed just for the pursuit of furthering his own wealth made them all sick.

What made it all the more infuriating, was the fact that the blood soaked money Gozaburo wrung out of his slaves and victims was the very thing that protected him from any type of attack. Be it political, physical, or in Bakura and Mariku's case – vigilante.

The bandits did what they had to because the law wouldn't – and _hadn't_ listened to three colored men with a case to tear apart the reputation to one of the West's most prominent and influential men. Not that they could even keep an officer's attention long enough to present the case.

Atemu had been willing to give them another chance, but Bakura and Mariku had been less forgiving. They decided to take the law into their own hands, while Atemu had decided to _become_ the law. Bakura didn't know how or when Atemu had managed to secure a job like that, but his friend had and as a result became the very thing the outlaws ran away from.

Not that Atemu would ever arrest them. They were bandits only for the benefits it allowed them to seek revenge on the people who had pulled apart their families and forced them to run into the desert to avoid slavery. They could go in places the law couldn't touch. Once their job was done, they could finally rest. Perhaps they'd become mercenaries or bounty hunters, but until then, they would remain bandits.

When their safe house came into view, Bakura slipped off his horses' back and gave it an appreciative pat on its flank. The sound of Mariku following was close behind the white haired outlaw and he turned to look at him idly. Speaking of business, the two had gone into town for more than to just pick a fight and get a drink. They had been there on business, trying to see if they could hear any rumors or news about what they were after.

Mainly, one man who went by the name of Aknadin. The bastard who had sold out not only Atemu's family in exchange for his own immunity from slavery, but Mariku and Bakura's as well.

Aknadin was rumored to be currently residing in this part of the west and the two bandits wanted to find out what type of hole a rat like him had crawled into. They wanted to smoke the bastard out into the open where they could finally deal with him. They were vindictive and angry. While they could let a great deal of crimes against them go unpunished, this one could not. There was just too much bad blood for them to even consider letting this one go.

"Did you hear any news about that snake before you carved up that bastard's face?" Bakura turned towards Mariku, pulling his hat off of his head as he jogged up to the porch to their safe house. The safe house was a nice enough place where he and Mariku could relax from time to time and not have to worry about their next crazy scheme. Granted, the peace and calm only lasted as long as they let it to, so it was always short lived.

Mariku smirked and wagged his finger at Bakura, "Of course I did!" He sang brightly, mad lavender eyes narrowing into amused slits, "Why would I get us kicked out before I heard anything?"

Bakura gave him a sour look and crossed his arms impatiently as he opened the door and tossed his hat inside haphazardly. He walked back down the steps so he could lead his trusty horse to the stables around back and water him. Mariku followed without a care in the world for his hat despite the fact that the sun had long since set, his white horse trotting along behind him.

"Do you plan on sharing with the rest of us eager listeners?" Bakura demanded with a scowl. He opened up the stable and led his horse inside, settling her down in the area he had set apart for her. He stroked her snout and unhooked her harness.

"It's not like I'm dying for information or anything." He continued sarcastically, unbuckling her saddle and hooking it on the wall. He took in the scent of the stables. Hay, oats, and horse dung. Wonderful. When was the last place they had cleaned this place out? Well it wasn't like they had time. Bakura made a mental note to drag Mariku out of the house early so they could shovel the poop.

Mariku grinned broadly at Bakura as he followed his friend's example and led his trusty horse into its stall. He went through the tedious task of unbuckling the saddle and removing the horse's harness before turning towards Bakura.

"Aknadin was snooping around a town not far from here in hopes of scaring its settlers into abandoning the town so he could buy the mine," Mariku smirked and leaned against one of the wooden posts. It creaked under his weight but held firm. "Apparently he's been spinning some tale that he used some occult type of magic to curse the town."

Bakura rolled his eyes and smirked, "The only magic he can claim is his ability to make gullible fools believe his lies." He rolled his shoulders and gave his horse, Akefia, a pat good night. He walked towards the door, already tugging loose his belt and undoing the strings around his legs that held his hostler in place. "Where's the town?"

Mariku smirked, "Like I said, not far from here. It's about a day's hard ride from here to there. His most recent haunting ground was Georgetown." He snorted, "But apparently he's moved on from there now. He cursed the town with death and pestilence before he left, claiming he will have the town, even if he has to pry it out of their dead hands."

"What a charming fellow," Bakura replied dryly. Mariku kept stride next to the white haired outlaw easily. They paused only for Bakura to close the stable before walking back into the safe house. "So he's not there anymore?" Bakura muttered.

"Nope, he's moved on but that's where his trail leaves off." Mariku smirked over at Bakura, slipping his belt and holster off as well. Bakura glared at Mariku, finally noticing how the other gunslinger had been repeating all of his actions without fail the entire time.

"Stop that," Bakura growled and marched away, his spurs making a distinct sound against the wooden floor with every step he took.

Mariku's face split into a gleeful smile and he quickly took off after Bakura, purposefully walking in such a way that his spurs clicked against the floor in a similar way the other's had.

"But Bakura, I haven't finished telling you the best part yet!" He practically sang his protest. The white haired outlaw made a distinctive sound of frustration as Mariku plopped onto the couch, spread out, and kicked off his boots. One narrowly missed hitting Bakura in the shin, much to the other's intense displeasure.

"Then get on with it you idiot," Bakura growled and flopped down into one of their rickety chairs. It let out a groan but he ignored it in favor of glaring at the smug looking Mariku. The blond outlaw was currently reclined back on the couch, acting as if he were a king instead of a fugitive.

"I don't have all day," Bakura gave his friend a sour glare. Right now a hot bath was sounding great after a long day of riding, fighting, and information gathering. Nothing Mariku could say or do would make talk of Aknadin more appealing than relaxing in a bath – especially since their target had already moved on already.

"He'll be coming back to Georgetown to collect his winnings," Mariku smirked darkly at Bakura.

The other jolted in his seat and his stormy eyes widened in shock. He took his last thought back immediately and leaned forward to show just how interested he was, although it was clear on his face that he was skeptical. He made no effort to squelch his rising disbelief concerning this new information about Aknadin. It was incredibly unlikely that the old bastard would choose now to break his pattern of all times.

The traitor had never been one to get his hands dirty. He would make an offer to someone and if they'd refuse him, he'd go out of his way to make their life a living hell. However, he'd never return to the scene of the crime. After putting on a scene like he had, it didn't seem likely that he'd actually bother returning to the town.

"He never goes back to clean up his messes," Bakura growled, "What's so special about this town that he'd risk being exposed for the bastard he really is?"

"Three reasons," Mariku grinned widely, "The most important being that Georgetown has a mine that's crammed full of gold deposits. It's a miner's wet dream. Which is probably the reason why Aknadin wants that place so damn bad."

Money. As always it was an incentive that could buy Aknadin out of any problem he found himself in. With wealth came immunity, and in some ways, it also brought about immortality. At least in the world of the rich business tycoons it did. Bakura could buy that.

"What makes it worse for Aknadin is that the mine itself is owned by the people of the town," Mariku's grin broadened and Bakura sat up straight in shock, "They all share a private portion of the mine, so unless they're all gone or the majority consents to turning over ownership to him, he can't do a damn thing with it."

He lifted his shoulders with a wicked smile, "Anything short of calling in the National Guard and taking out every damn person in that place." However considering who they were talking about, the idea wasn't all that farfetched for Aknadin to try. If he had enough money to buy a town, he could probably convince the National Guard to come in.

Bakura's head spun at this news. If the people owned the mine, then Aknadin would have no choice but to eventually return if he _really_ wanted that town. A slow grin spread on his face before it disappeared just as abruptly as it appeared. Wait, no. That wasn't right. Aknadin could just as easily hire a thug to take care of things for him.

"Go on," Bakura wove his fingers together, propping his elbows on his knees and resting his chin on the back of his hands.

"When Aknadin puts his name on the line you know he's going to go through with his plans," Mariku pointed out, "His reputation means everything to him. You remember the time when Atemu's old man tried to help him stand up after tripping over that water trough in town?"

Bakura nodded as the memory came back to him. He, Atemu, and Mariku had been playing near the center fountain near the bank house when Aknadin had fallen.

"He slapped Aknaunkanon's hand away and stood up with his nose in the air," Bakura pondered for a moment, "And a stick shoved up his ass." He added as an afterthought.

"Exactly, he was afraid of looking weak and dependant on his older brother," Mariku smirked, "So he decided to stand up on his own and set about showing everyone in town how 'graceful' he was for the next two weeks. I think he even began telling stories about how people often praised him for his 'poise.'" The wild haired outlaw snorted in genuine amusement.

"The idiot," Bakura muttered under his breath, smirking at the memory of Aknadin's foolishness. Who cared what people thought? When you started to care, you began to act like a puppet to the whims of the people around you. That was part of the reason why the life of an outlaw suited Bakura so well.

Mariku looked at Bakura, feigned shock showing on his features – it wasn't very convincing, "You're calling someone else an idiot for a change? I'm so proud of you Bakura; I didn't know you had it in you!"

Bakura snorted and reached over to shove the brim of Mariku's hat down over the other's lavender eyes. It was his fault for wearing the hat indoors anyway, "Shut up and get to the point."

Mariku grumbled and yanked the hat off his face so he could give Bakura a sour glare.

"My point being, Aknadin would make good on his threat. He'd make sure to come back at one point, even if it's to supervise the damage he's caused."

Bakura's stormy eyes brightened as that very realistic possibility struck him. Aknadin was a type of sick fuck who enjoyed getting off on the suffering and pain he had knowingly caused. They had never stumbled across him in person as they both knew Aknadin would never get his hands dirty to pick up the pieces of his mess, so that always left Bakura and Mariku with nothing to do but to track down his henchmen in the hopes they'd lead back to Aknadin. They never had.

But this was the first time they ever knew where Aknadin was planning on striking. They could be there when he moved to jack off to the chaos he employed. After all, it was no fun to visit a scene after all the screams had died out. He would _want_ to see it all.

What Aknadin didn't know, was that Bakura and Mariku would be waiting for him. And when they caught him, they would make him pay.

Most dearly.

Excitement flooded through the bandit's veins, and he could finally see what had Mariku in a slightly crazier mood than usual. They were close. So very close to the bastard who had been responsible for tearing their families apart he could almost taste it.

They had never been this close before.

Bakura struggled to get his excitement and bloodlust down and under control before he turned back to Mariku, "And the last point would be?" Bakura, try as he might, could not wipe the shit eating grin off his face.

Mariku smirked, "It's not _really_ a point – just a theory."

One snowy eyebrow raised in skepticism, with an accompanying glare which by the looks of things clearly stated 'don't waste my time, I just got into a good mood' aimed directly at Mariku. He waved his hand in a sign that the crazy outlaw could continue whatever he was talking about.

"You said Aknadin would never risk hurting his 'nice guy' image," Mariku's smirk grew. At Bakura's impatient nod of agreement, Mariku's grin looked as if it was threatening to split his face apart.

Bakura scooted his chair back to put some distance between himself and the crazy man.

"Well don't you think that 'nice guy' image would be effectively shattered if he went into town cursing them all to hell and back again – playing with the occult, even jokingly never works out well in the West." Mariku stretched out on the couch with a wide yawn.

Bakura nodded, "Yeah, although I honestly don't see why that move of stupidity was beneficial to him – or his precious self image for that matter."

"What if he were to come back after the town had learned its lesson to 'lift' the 'curse,'" Mariku waved his arms around wildly as he explained, getting to the buildup of his theory, "The townsfolk would be completely at his mercy!"

Bakura sighed and shook his head – well, Mariku had been going good for a while; the stupid was bound to catch up eventually.

"That's assuming the townsfolk have dung for brains," Bakura said flatly, "How can he really curse them with 'death and pestilence'? By pissing all over their plants and sending in a bunch of hired thugs to do his dirty work – It's more his style. I doubt the people in town would really write off a mysterious group of burly men attempting to scare them into selling their part of the mine to Aknadin as a coincidence."

"I liked my theory better," Mariku pouted.

Bakura rolled his eyes, "Your 'theory' sounds like horse shit to me."

Mariku blinked, looking over at Bakura innocently, "But don't all of your plans involve horse shit of some kind?"

Bakura narrowed his eyes into growled irritably, "You're going to find a rattlesnake in your bed tonight." He hissed.

"I'll name him 'fluffy'" Mariku grinned dreamily at the idea of a pet, "Because he'll remind me of you 'Kura!"

Bakura's hand twitched with the desire to reach for his weapon.

Instead he shook his head and reigned in his ever present temper, "Any chance we can get in contact with Atemu before we head out tomorrow – or before you drive me completely insane?"

Mariku frowned up at Bakura, "I can't go back in time to send a telegram." He said blankly, referring to the last part of his friend's statement. Bakura growled in frustration.

Seeing that his unstable friend was close to snapping, Mariku crossed his arms behind his head and frowned seriously, "No, we don't know where Atemu is right now. He's on assignment touring through ghost towns or something ridiculous like that. By the time he got our telegram it'll be long past the point."

"Talk about an exciting job," Bakura muttered under his breath and stood up. "I'm going to take a bath now. Come get me if you have any less ape-shit theories you unfortunately feel like sharing." His glare clearly said he was _not_ serious about that invitation, and he regretted it the instant it came out of his mouth. Although he reconsidered when he realized that wouldn't change the fact that Mariku would be bothering him in five minutes anyway.

It was honestly a surprise their house was still standing with all the holes Bakura had fired in it after trying to shoot a bullet in Mariku's spiky hair.

"I better make these five minutes count," the white haired bandit muttered as he walked to their bath room to prepare the water. They'd both have to be at the top of their game tomorrow. After all, they'd be riding to Georgetown at the crack of dawn.

-::-

Bakura yawned as he and Mariku trotted into Georgetown. Both bandits had been to Georgetown once or twice, so they knew it was a thriving town where you could easily get lost – Or in trouble. But the two would be on their best behavior this time around, as they didn't want to be chased out of town within a day of their arrival. They wanted to be able to stay a while to see how long it would take for their target to show up.

So what if they had missed out on Gozaburo weeks earlier. Atemu had mentioned something about Gozaburo being tipped off to their arrival, but they had told no one of their plan this time around – not even Atemu. There was no chance of Aknadin sniffing them out before arriving himself.

That would give both outlaws plenty of opportunity to sneak around and familiarize themselves with the territory.

However, thoughts of planning and revenge soon fled from both of their minds as they approached the town and spotted a circle of people crowded just around its borders.

"What d'you suppose is going on over there?" Mariku murmured over the gentle trot of their horses.

"I couldn't say from here," Bakura squinted against the sun.

Eventually, the two outlaws dismounted their horses and began to lead them in the direction of the mass of people. The instant they arrived, the townsfolk turned to regard them with suspicion, muttering darkly under their breath. Bakura raised his eyebrows at the treatment.

They were used to such hospitality by now, but it only usually started around the time either bandits started drinking. And it wasn't even high noon yet.

Mariku peered over the crowd, his eyes flying open wide as a curse spilled from his mouth.

Surprised to see such a reaction from his friend, Bakura edged around the crowd to see what had made the deserted hardened Mariku lose all the color in his face. However the instant Bakura's gaze fell on the subject at hand, he too felt himself go white under his tan.

The severed remains of a woman, torn apart and bloodless littered the ground, her unseeing eyes wide with terror. Her arm had been detached at the shoulder and flung a distance away, her legs broken and bent at awkward angles. Bones peeked through her pale white skin, showing her pelvis had been completely smashed in. Additionally, her midsection had been torn wide open, exposing and spilling her guts to the world around her.

The woman's intestines were stretched quite the distance, indicating she had been either dragged around like a ragdoll by whatever had killed her.

Bakura and Mariku looked away. They weren't the only ones either.

The only one who wouldn't look away was a slender looking fellow who knelt beside the woman's corpse. He was the town's doctor, with beautiful white hair tied up to keep out of his face while he examined the body. He held a handkerchief over his mouth and looked sickened by the scene in front of him, but Bakura had to commend him on going through with this bravely.

"I couldn't begin to say what did this to her," The doctor said softly. Bakura had to lean in to hear him, thinking with some annoyance that he should talk louder. He found the doctor's voice nice to listen to. Soft and gentle.

It was annoying that he spoke so quietly.

"Although whatever got to Ms. Vivian was very large and extremely hungry," The doctor continued, looking incredibly ill, "It's most likely still out there, so it would be best if no one went out alone at night like Ms. Vivian tended to do."

The gathered townsfolk nodded at the doctor's advice and a group of burly looking men went ahead to gather the body – and to fetch the spare parts of it. The young doctor remained kneeling long after the body was taken away and he remained that way until the crowd dispersed. Once he was certain that the gathered townsfolk had gone off to their business as usual, the doctor sprang to his feet and ran to a nearby bush to be ill.

Bakura winced at the pitiful sounds and grimaced, feeling for the better part useless in situations like this. He was tempted just to turn around and go into town like the rest of the group but something stopped him. That same thing compelled him to go comfort the doctor, or at least make him feel a bit better.

Grunting, Bakura passed the reigns of his horse off to Mariku and jerked his head into town, "Get them settled will you? I'll be right there."

Mariku looked at him in surprise before his lavender eyes flicked over to the sick doctor in understanding. He shrugged and turned into town, tugging on the reigns of both horses.

Meanwhile, Bakura approached the slender doctor from behind, fishing out his water canteen. He settled a hand on the man's heaving back and grunted an acknowledgement, "Hey."

The doctor turned around in shock, exhausted brown eyes flying open wide. His handkerchief had once again been positioned above his mouth, this time with the intent to wipe it clean. He hurriedly did so as a rosy flush covered his cheeks.

"Ah, I'm sorry," The doctor apologized quickly, clearly mortified for having been caught in such a moment of weakness. "I didn't know you were there."

"Well now you do," Bakura said gruffly and he shook the water canteen under the doctor's nose, "Here, drink this." He said gruffly.

The young doctor was attractive and around Bakura's age if he judged it right. He had two deep chocolate eyes that looked up at Bakura soulfully. Full, pink lips parted in surprise as the canteen was thrust under his nose.

"Thank you Mr...?" The doctor accepted the container and gratefully washed his mouth out. He cleaned the rim off before returning it.

"Bakura Akefia. But just Bakura – drop the 'mister,' I'm not that old yet." The outlaw shifted his weight to look over at the doctor, "You got a name doc?"

The doctor smiled and held his hand out, "My name is Ryou Bakura actually." He laughed at the bewildered expression on Bakura's face. "You can call me just Ryou if that helps any, most people do."

Ryou took a moment to survey the rough-looking individual who had decided to show a little kindness to him. His stomach knotted nervously and his flush most likely became more pronounced, _but oh was this man attractive! _

He had caramel skin that was otherwise flawless except for a long, double crossed scar that cut across his right eye. It did nothing to hinder his sight and it only seemed to add to his appeal. His eyes were a stormy mixture of gray and blue. A wild mane of white hair that ended just above his shoulders, framed his face. It was covered by a brown hat, and a dark blue handkerchief was tied around his throat.

Bakura had broad shoulders and a strong build, and Ryou figured that the gruff man could probably break him in half if he was so compelled.

However before Ryou had an opportunity to dwell on the thought, it immediately faded away when the dark man pressed his warm palm into Ryou's hand. The doctor barely had enough sense to gather his wits together fast enough to return the firm handshake and all too soon that warm hand was gone.

Ryou nervously tucked his hair behind an ear and he smiled at Bakura, "Thank you for your kindness Bakura."

"No problem," The cowboy muttered and stowed the canteen away, back at his waist where he had it before. "I've got to go before my friend gets too far though. It's a big town." He grunted, not exactly wanting to leave, but knowing he really did have to find Mariku before the other outlaw got too far away. Bakura did not relish the thought of getting lost.

"Of course," Ryou smiled and waved as Bakura began to walk away, "I hope to see you around town soon."

Bakura just raised a hand in acknowledgement to the statement and walked into town, leaving one very flustered doctor behind.

-::-

Early the next morning found Bakura and Mariku searching the perimeter of the town for clues concerning Aknadin and his thugs. Both agreed that the attack on Ms. Vivian had been a result of Aknadin's schemes. They didn't know why or how, but they knew he was somehow responsible.

Bakura frowned and rubbed his hand over his eyes in frustration as their search yielded no results. They hadn't bothered bringing their horses as that would have drawn too much attention to them this early in the morning. The villagers already didn't like them all that much considering they had arrived just when Vivian's body had been discovered. Unfortunately the sun was beginning to rise, so they would have to cut their search short.

They could hear people stirring back in town and the sound of a distant train screeching to a halt to let its passengers off. There were soft murmurs of voices barely awake. They'd have to go back soon.

"Did you find anything?" Mariku jogged up to Bakura. The white haired outlaw shook his head.

"This place isn't yielding anything, we'll have to come back at night when everyone is asleep," Bakura muttered. He shifted his hat so he could better see the sun bleeding over the horizon, "It's time to head on back."

Mariku nodded and yawned tiredly. Bakura could tell that his friend was eager to run back into the inn and crawl into his warm bed. The blond outlaw was already walking out back towards the town. A smirking Bakura made to follow him, but before he could get far, something caught his attention.

Off towards his left, he could see what looked like the ground itself shifting and rolling.

Odd. He found it hard to believe there was a geyser coming up from underground this far out west, or this close to the town.

"Hey Mariku!" He called out, walking curiously towards the rising and falling ground, "Check this out!"

Mariku turned back around with a whine, "No fair 'Kura! You said I could sleep!"

The white haired outlaw couldn't quite hide his smirk as he realized that his judgment about Mariku had been right, "I never said you could go back to sleep when we got back into town, just that we were heading back – now move your lazy ass!"

Bakura frowned as he finally got close enough so he could inspect the rising ground from a safe distance. If it was a geyser he didn't want to get to close to it. He was curious about it, but that didn't mean he trusted it not to hurt him even slightly. He had long since learned that the desert held many secrets, and not many of them were meant to be discovered if one wanted to live.

Bakura stilled as his instincts flared warningly. Something was not right. Something was _very_ wrong.

He raised a warning hand to stop Mariku from getting any closer. His friend came to a stop a few feet away from him and regarded Bakura with curiosity.

"What is it?" He demanded.

"I don't know, but I'm getting bad vibes from this thing," Bakura muttered. He took a single step backwards in retreat from the ground. Whatever it was, it reminded him of something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

That single step was all it took for Bakura to realize his mistake. He should have never backed away.

The ground exploded around Bakura's feet, startling the gunslinger into instinctively backpedaling. He was vaguely aware of Mariku shouting, but he couldn't hear him over the roar of his blood rushing through his ears.

Immediately, four spiny legs shot out from the opened ground to wrap around Bakura's waist and catch his legs. He was jerked to the floor, his head cracking against the ground enough to daze him. The short, sharp barbs which decorated the creature's legs dug into Bakura's sides, causing him to cry out in pain. He couldn't move his entire lower body, as whatever was holding him kept a vice-like grip on him.

He managed to gather enough of his wits together when the creature began to drag him into the hole from where it came.

Mariku let out an angry shout and pounded forward, his hands wrapping around Bakura's arms in an attempt to drag him out of the monster's clutches. The only thing that achieved was for him to lose his footing as the beast jerked them both forward like a pair of flies. Mariku held firm, digging his spur-covered heels into the ground as both he and Bakura were dragged effortlessly by the creature.

Just as Bakura reached for his gun, two more thin armored legs crept out of the open ground to pull the body of the creature up into sight.

Both Bakura and Mariku's eyes widened in horror at the sight of the eight-legged, swollen body that was threatening to drag Bakura under the ground. Eight eyes were set in the creature's head and stared blindly out at the two outlaws. Two large pinchers twitched and reached for Bakura's legs, dripping with venom.

Bakura drew his gun and emptied its contents in its joints. Its eyes were too far back for him to hit from this angle, and not for the first time he was left wishing Atemu was there. He was the sharpest shooter Bakura had ever met, and he could use a miracle right about now.

The bullets were deflected harmlessly off the beast's armored body and judging by how it didn't so much as flinch, the lead pieces hadn't even registered to it.

"Fuck!" Mariku swore violently as his grip tightened on his friend. Lavender eyes were wide as he felt them both slowly being dragged towards the hole and Bakura slowly inched towards the venomous fangs. If Bakura was bitten by fangs of that size, he'd die from the bite itself before the venom would kill him.

Bakura fought to get away, but he looked back at Mariku, silently telling him to let go. He didn't want to be responsible for the death of his friend at the hands of this creature. Mariku didn't look at him. They had a code that had kept them alive for so long in the desert and he wasn't planning on abandoning it now. They watched out for one another.

And if one of them went, all of them went.

Even if it meant death by a huge ass trap-door spider.

-::-

_**Seriously if you guys couldn't guess what the 'monster' was, then I need to attack someone with a spade of cold, hard, steel plot-device.**_

_**Reviews are cherished.**_


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